


What Side Of Love Are You On?

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Biphobia, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Harry Styles, Bisexuality, Boys Kissing, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Meetings, Fluff, Homophobia, Humor, Internal Conflict, M/M, Meet-Cute, Movie Fusion, Movie: Because I Said So, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before.  When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart.A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.
Relationships: Cara Delevingne/Harry Styles, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 44
Kudos: 296
Collections: One Direction Big Bang Round 3





	What Side Of Love Are You On?

**Author's Note:**

> This took a literal village to make happen. Thank you to all of my group chats, all of my betas/cheerleaders/incredible friends who cheered me on literally all night long. I love you so much.
> 
> Moodboard and [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/09rPYSe1meoxsKEXcjoPzS?si=qh5fyspRS7aatLLLQ6Q-6A) by @dimpled-halo. Thank you, my friend!

Harry is happy for his sister. He truly is. She’s just joined the ranks of the happily married and he wants nothing more than to smile and congratulate her on finding her _special someone_. And get his hands on some of that delicious-looking cake.

Unfortunately, his mother has other ideas, stopping the festivities at every turn to fuss over something or other. Gemma has lived with it long enough that it doesn’t really faze her anymore. She just rolls her eyes and lets it happen. There is typically no stopping their mother once she gets started.

They are posing for pictures behind the cake and Harry keeps eyeing the beautiful confection, at once both entertaining the idea of listening to the little devil on his shoulder telling him that no one will know if he swipes his fingers through the icing at the bottom and wishing that his mother would let the photographer get on with his job so that he doesn’t have to settle for a stolen treat. Anne has stopped the photographer yet again because she isn’t fond of the camera angle he’s working with and Harry can tell that the man wants to throttle her with the strap of his camera bag. Feeling for the man, and himself (he’s still holding out despite little devil Harry’s constant poking with his tiny pitchfork), Harry tries to help them move along.

“Mum, just let him do his job so we can get to serving the cake,” Harry says, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone.

Sometimes his mum can be persuaded by sweets. It’s a weakness that runs in the family.

“Oh, alright,” she says brightly, giving in and putting an arm around Harry’s waist while the other holds a glass of champagne. But just as the photographer goes to snap the picture, she throws out a hand to stop him again.

“Well, maybe like _this_ ,” she says, manhandling the camera from its owner to show him a better angle.

Really, Harry should have known better than to try.

Fortunately, his mother’s attention is soon diverted to the girl that’s been throwing Harry glances all day like she thinks he looks familiar but can’t quite figure out where she’s seen him. Harry is pretty sure that she’s the one night stand that snuck out on him last New Year’s. He’s hoping she won’t remember. He knows _he’d_ rather forget.

“Harry, sweetheart, do you see that girl that your friend Taylor brought with her? She’s been staring at you the whole wedding.”

“Mum, that’s Taylor’s _date_.”

“So? People bring their friends to weddings all the time. I’m sure that she wouldn’t mind introducing you,” Anne supplies, clearly not picking up what he’s laying down.

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Harry returns, losing his patience. “That’s Taylor’s _girlfriend_.”

“Okaaay?” Anne is obviously still thinking with schoolyard logic. Girl plus friend equals girlfriend.

Harry sighs, feeling a definite headache coming on.

“She’s not gonna have sex with me, Mum,” Harry says finally settling for bluntness in the face of his mother’s cluelessness. “Because she has sex with Taylor.”

“What?” Anne crows, incredulous. “Surely not. A pretty girl like that doesn’t need to resort to lesbianism, she could have probably any man she wanted.”

Progressive, Harry’s mother is not. Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t felt the need to share his revelation that he was bisexual when he’d realized at the age of 16. That and the fear of the unknown. Would his mother bitch and moan about not having grandkids if Harry ended up with a man? Or would she rejoice in the fact that the pool of potential candidates for her to set her son up with had grown so vastly? He didn’t want to know.

Harry rolls his eyes at his mother and turns to look at the girl in question. He smiles at what he sees and urges his mother with a gentle elbow to the ribs and a point in their direction to follow his gaze.

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Harry is glad that she finally sees the truth.

Anne shrugs. “You could still introduce yourself. I’ll distract Taylor for you.”

“Oh my God,” Harry mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stave off the migraine the woman is giving him. “I’m not going to steal her girl.”

“She may not be _full_ _lesbian_. You never know until you try,” Anne coaxes.

Harry doesn’t say anything and just walks away. Sometimes that’s the only response that makes sense with his mother.

Later, he gives the photographer an I’m-sorry-my-mother-is-a-psychopath blowjob and they both feel a bit better about their day.

~@~

“Dana, go over the wine list with the bride’s mother again just to make sure there haven’t been any last minute changes we should be aware of,” Harry orders one of his assistants before turning to face the rest of them. “Trevor, make sure the centerpieces are set out and _actually centered_ this time. Don’t just throw them on the table and move on.”

Trevor bows his head in shame but hurries to do Harry’s bidding. Good. That boy needs to watch out or Harry won’t be able to let him keep his job for much longer.

“Claire, the maid of honor is highly allergic to shellfish. I need you to check with the bride and make sure that no one who ordered shellfish is seated near her. We don’t want to let our food have any chance of ruining this reception.”

“Um, Harry?” Elsa calls out timidly when she returns from her task in the kitchen. “There’s a problem with the truffles.”

Harry sighs. There’s always _something_.

“Okay, just- just make sure everything in the tent is immaculate,” he instructs the rest of them as he turns to figure out the problem in the kitchen. 

He stops, smile already climbing his cheeks when he sees his boyfriend next to the food truck. He starts to head that way – he could use a short break— when his phone rings. His mother’s face flashes up at him from the screen and he sighs again but answers. She’ll only call right back if he doesn’t.

“Hi, mum,” he greets, his standard greeting complete with barely concealed impatience. The only reason she calls these days is to try and set him up with one of her friend’s daughters. Ever since he finally made the decision to come out to her as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase.

“Hi, sweetie,” Anne coos through the phone. “How’s the wedding going?”

“Fine, mum,” Harry lies, wishing he were talking to his boyfriend instead. He glances over, smile already returning but it falls again when he sees his boyfriend flirting with Elsa.

“Great!” Anne exclaims, “Ok, well I was just calling because Gina’s daughter, Rebekah –remember her? She’s home from her sophomore year in college and she’s just dying to catch up with you.”

“Yeah, okay, mum,” Harry gives in without a fight, glancing again at his soon-to-be ex as he caresses Elsa’s face.

“Oh,” Anne sounds a bit dumbfounded that Harry’s given in so easily but she isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Ok, well, I’ll set something up and text you the details.”

“Great,” Harry sighs, shaking off the disappointment that is his entire life. “Look, I gotta get back to work, Mum. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok, sweetie. I love you!!”

“Love you, too,” Harry murmurs into the phone and hangs up, heading into the kitchen to find out what’s happening with the damned truffles. He throws one last look over his shoulder at the delivery truck but Elsa and his boyfriend are gone.

_Good riddance, anyway._

~@~

“I’m telling you, the **Chicken** Makhani is _to die for_.” Harry hears his mother telling his sister as he rushes to join them.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he says as he sits in the empty chair next to his mother. Gemma and her husband sit across from them, leaving one extra chair conspicuously empty.

“It’s alright, dear,” Harry’s mother assures him, looking from the empty seat to the front door of the restaurant before asking, “Where is Rebekah? Is she running late?”

Harry sighs deeply. He knew he wouldn’t get out of his mother asking that question. “No,” he answers forlornly but hesitates to admit the rest. “She’s not coming,” he eventually forces out. “She, uh, broke up with me.”

Anne’s indignant “What? _Why?_ ” is twice as loud as Gemma’s “aww, I’m sorry, little brother.”

“Thanks, Gem,” Harry says gratefully to his sister, trying to ignore his mother’s questions in the hopes of not having to answer. One might think he would learn after dealing with her all his life.

“Why on Earth would she break up with you, love?” Anne asks again. “You two were so good together.”

“Well, apparently she can’t deal with my bisexuality. She said it made her feel doubly insecure that I might leave her for ‘ _literally anyone else’_ ,” Harry rolls his eyes as he quotes his newest ex-girlfriend. Seriously, just because he’s bisexual doesn’t mean he’ll sleep with anyone who looks at him.

“Oh, sweetie,” Harry’s mom looks at him with such disappointment. “Why did you even tell her about that? What is the use of her knowing that you think you like boys when you’re with her anyway?”

“I’m not hiding a part of who I am just because some people might not like it, mother,” Harry argues, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Anne says, glancing at Gemma who’s gone quiet next to her husband but Gemma offers her no support. “I just meant...”

“I know what you meant. You still think it’s just a phase but it’s not. It’s _who I am,_ ” Harry tells her, picking up the napkin he had been placing in his lap and slamming it down on the table. “I’m sorry,” he says with a shake of his head and an apologetic look towards his sister. “I don’t think I’m up for this tonight.”

Just as quickly as he swept into the restaurant, Harry gets up and walks back out, leaving his stunned mother, quietly approving brother-in-law, and very proud sister behind.

Anne sighs and slumps in her seat. “Why is he so difficult?” she asks mournfully.

“Maybe because his own mother doesn’t accept him?” Gemma answers, unimpressed as she takes a sip of her water. Wine would be better but, unfortunately, they haven’t gotten that far in the evening.

“You know I love your brother just as he is. I just worry about him,” Anne frowns, eyes searching the path of Harry’s departure as though maybe he’ll come back. “Finding a love that’s going to last is difficult enough, I don’t want him making this harder on himself than he has to.”

“Mum,” Gemma grits out, exasperated. “ _You’re_ making this harder on him.” She feels the weight of her husband’s hand on her thigh and looks down at it. He’s just sitting there silently next to her because he’s learned by now not to interrupt the Styles women when they’re arguing, but the small sign of support means a lot. Gemma rests her hand over his and focuses back on her mother. “You need to let him find his own way. Make his own mistakes without telling him that every move he makes is wrong.”

Anne sighs and looks around for a waiter. They’ve obviously stayed away because no one wants to walk into the middle of an argument but she needs someone to walk in right now. She’s done being the bad guy for the night. “Where is that waiter?” She mutters, craning her neck. “I need some wine.”

She doesn’t comment on Harry’s love life for the rest of the meal but the atmosphere is still fraught with tension. She goes home that night still thinking about it. Maybe she is too meddlesome. Or maybe she just needs to be a little sneakier about it. After all, she only wants her son to be happy. There can’t be anything wrong with that, right?

~@~

Anne sits in front of her computer, chewing fretfully on her lower lip as she stares at what she’s written on the screen. 

This isn’t a bad idea, right? 

No. It is not, she decides. 

She hits send. 

A fresh personal ad appears on the website and Anne reads it over again just to make sure there are no errors. 

‘Mother seeking perfect match for handsome, self-employed son. 26 yo with a generous heart, affectionate nature, witty and warm with a love of children. Interesting sense of humor and great cook. Are you the woman, or man, for him? Message for appointment.’

Okay, the scene is set, the game is afoot and all that good stuff. Anne sits back and enjoys her handiwork, re-reading the ad and feeling smug about how inclusive she made it. She accepts her son and she will prove it to him. He would be proud if he knew, which he never, ever will because she knows better than to tell him that she’s meddling in his love life again. It won’t matter, she supposes, as long as she finds someone who can make him happy. Which she will do this weekend when they answer her brilliant personal ad. 

_“Ooh”,_ she says aloud, hopping up from her chair. She’d better figure out which of her dresses to wear! A good first impression is too important to leave to the last second.

~@~

Anne sits in her nicest blue polka dot dress, sipping her tea as she waits for her first appointment. She’s picked a restaurant with a bar in the event that things take a bad turn so that she can drink her pain away but she’s also placed cards for Harry’s catering business on the table, prepared to offer them up to any candidates that meet her expectations in case things go well. She’s anxious in a way that leans more toward nervous excitement than dread about meeting all the people clamoring for her son’s heart. Granted, none of them have ever even seen Harry before but she thinks she gave them a good idea of what he’s like in her ad and, boy, did they seem to like it according to the number of messages she received.

“Hi, are you Anne?” A pretty blonde girl asks, nervously clutching her purse to her side like Anne might try to swipe it if she doesn’t. 

“Yes, I am. Are you Courtney?” Anne smiles back, subtly taking in her modest floral dress and flats. She’s obviously a sensible dresser, so that’s a plus but she’s still clutching her purse in a way that makes Anne a little wary of her. 

“That’s me,” Courtney smiles as she sits, relaxing her hold on her bag a little. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Anne feels herself loosen up as Courtney relaxes across from her. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Courtney waves the offer away, placing both hands primly on the table in front of her.

“Alright, well, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself,” Anne suggests. 

“Alright,” Courtney agrees. “My family lives in the country but I prefer city life. It’s so much more…,”she pauses, taking a breath to search for the right word, “... _vibrant_ in the city. I work in a church charity shop during the week but on the weekends, I like to volunteer at the local animal shelter. And I thought your ad about you son was absolutely darling.”

“Awww,” Anne coos, holding a hand to her heart. “Thank you so much!”

Anne quickly decides that Courtney is a charming little gem. She’ll definitely go on Anne’s list of ‘maybe’s. That is, until she gets up to leave at the end of their interview and trips, dropping her bag and spilling the contents everywhere. The silverware from the tabletop that Anne didn’t realize was missing is strewn about the floor, as well as a few wallets and…

“Is that my watch?” Anne squawks, outraged as she looks down to find her wrist bare. “That _is_ my watch.”

Courtney is definitely not going on the list now. 

After the girl is escorted somewhere further inside the restaurant to wait for the police to arrive, minus the silverware and Anne’s watch, a clean-cut young man approaches next. He’s well dressed in a sharp suit and he watches Courtney and her escort disappear from view with unbridled curiosity. 

“Wow, that was crazy wasn’t it?” he asks, eyes full of excitement when he meets Anne’s gaze and there’s something innocent and sweet about his smile. 

“Hello. Are you my next appointment?” Anne asks him.

“I believe I am. Hi, I’m Liam Payne.” He holds out his hand to Anne and she shakes it when it’s offered, but keeps an eye on her watch this time. Just in case. 

The interview goes well at first and her watch stays in its place, but then Anne asks the question that knocks Liam out of the running.

“You seem like you’ve got it all figured out,” she says, eyes scanning over his expensive suit, nice shoes, and fancy watch (much nicer than her own so hers is probably safe this time). “Tell me, why is a guy like you still single?”

“Well, to be honest, I’m a bit of a workaholic,” Liam says with a tilt of his head. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with knowing the value of hard work though.”

Anne agrees, there isn’t anything wrong with knowing the value of hard work, until it makes you forget the value of your partner. Liam is not a viable option for Harry. What’s the point of her son being in a relationship where he’ll constantly be lonely? Harry wouldn’t be able to cope with that. 

Next is Greg, a radio DJ who seems perfectly nice on the surface. He’s cute and funny, and there’s something about him that seems very gentle, like he would do his best to take care of his partner, but Anne worries about pairing Harry with someone who has a platform to so publicly air their dirty laundry should things go bad between them. No, she won’t risk putting Harry in that kind of situation.

What follows is a parade of women and men who grow progressively worse in the potential department including a burly lumberjack who doesn’t know how to open his mouth when he speaks, a sweet but hyperactive young woman who could not sit still long enough to get through a single question, and a hot dog vendor who may or may not be a little too enamored of his hot dogs. Within a couple of hours, Anne is starting to doubt that this endeavor has any merit. She’s grown so disenchanted with the whole process that she’s forgone tea in favor of a Boozy Arnold Palmer.

She’s enjoying her drink and the live music when an older woman, probably her own age, sits in the chair across from her. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Clare Burcham,” the woman says, digging around in her bag and pulling out a pamphlet that she hands over to Anne. “I saw your ad and I’d like to invite you to my ‘Letting Go’ seminar for moms having trouble letting their adult children leave the nest.”

“Oh, you’re a therapist,” Anne hums, only vaguely hiding her irritation at the fact that this woman is judging her. And she’s not even right. Anne’s children have already left the nest and she’s perfectly fine. She just doesn’t want her son to be lonely while he’s flying free or whatever.

“Ah, well, _psychologist_ ,” Clare corrects with a tight smile.

“Sorry, I think _we_ had an appointment, now?” A handsome man with scruff on his cheeks and way too many tattoos interrupts Clare-the-psychologist, giving Anne a pointed look and a sly wink when Clare looks away from him. 

“Oh, riiiight,” Anne feigns remembrance, nodding at the handsome stranger and giving an equally fake apologetic frown to Clare. “I’m so sorry, Clare. I can’t afford to be rude.”

“No problem,” Clare waves away the apology as she stands, freeing the chair for Anne’s next appointment. “But please, my number is on the back of the pamphlet--”

“Absolutely,” Anne lies, waving politely as the woman walks away and the young stranger takes her seat, maybe to sell their ruse in case Clare is lingering.

She looks over the young man, taking in his back jeans and white band t-shirt with narrowed eyes. Honestly, he looks like someone she would have warned her children away from becoming friends with in their teen years. The tattoo peeking out of the collar of his t-shirt along with the mishmash of odd ones all down one of his arms is enough to tell her that. 

“We don’t _really_ have an appointment, do we?”

“Nah,” the man chuckles good-naturedly, placing a glass she hadn’t noticed he was carrying on the table in front of her, “but I thought you could use another drink. I’m Louis, by the way.”

“Oh, well,” Anne blushes, playing with her hair a little bit. “I’m Anne. And I appreciate the gesture, but I think you’re a little young for me.”

“Really?” Louis smirks. “After the parade I’ve seen through here, I thought younger was what you were going for. And kudos for being so open about being into both men and women, too. Right on. _Be proud of who you are_.”

Anne isn’t sure how to react to this young man’s assumptions except to clear them up as quickly as possible. “I like men just fine, thank you. And I like them my own age. These people you’ve seen me talking to are interviewing to date my son, Harry.”

“Oh,” Louis nods like that’s a completely normal comment. “Alright then. Can anyone interview? I don’t know anything about the lad but his mum is proper entertaining so I think I might like him.” He gives Anne another wink, playful this time.

Anne laughs. “You’re kidding, right? You look like a mother’s worst nightmare. And anyway, first, you hit on me and now you want to date my son? I don’t think so.”

“Hang on a minute,” Louis says, leaning forward in his seat, seeming ready to give an impassioned argument but there’s also humor in the turn of his lips and glinting in his eyes. “First of all, I wasn’t hitting on you. I’m the bartender and I thought you were having some tough luck finding a date so I was bringing you a drink to ease the pain a bit.”

“Oh,” Anne murmurs, only allowing herself to feel the slightest bit embarrassed. It was an honest mistake. Could’ve happened to anyone.

“And second,” he says, smile growing, “as a wise woman once said, ‘I like men just fine. And I like ‘em my own age’."

“Alright, then,” Anne blinks, once more feeling stumped as to what to say, but then her eyes take in Louis’ tattoos again and the wicked gleam in his eyes. “So, you weren’t flirting with a woman old enough to be your mother, but that doesn’t change the fact that you look like trouble.”

“Come _on_ ,” Louis argues, a smile still painted on his lips. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to judge a book by its cover? Didn’t you teach your son that?”

“Of course,” Anne nods, conceding the point. “But the way you look isn’t the only thing that has me hesitant.” She watches as Louis slumps back in his seat, waving a hand for her to enlighten him, lips still damningly curved up at the corners. The arrogance he exudes makes her feel smug. “For instance, you’ve been smirking since the moment you sat down, which tells me that you aren’t taking this as seriously as I need you to for the sake of my son’s heart. And that, I’m afraid, is a deal breaker.”

Louis scoffs, leaning forward again, elbow on his knees. “You don’t like the way I smile?” 

“ _Smirk_ ,” Anne corrects. “I’m sorry, Louis,” she tells him in that stern way that only a mother can, “but the answer is no.”

Louis bites his tongue and Anne can see how difficult it is for him not to argue. Instead, he gives a slow nod. “Alright, then,” he gives up with a sigh. “I guess I should get back to work. Enjoy the drink. It’s on the house.”

“Thank you,” Anne accepts, grateful that Louis is willing to listen and walk away. 

As Louis stands he notices a small stack of business cards on the table with the name Harry Styles printed on them. Sneaking a peek at Anne while she’s distracted by her drink, he stealthily palms one of the cards, slipping it into his back pocket as he saunters away. 

Anne is mid-sip of her free Arnold Palmer when a pretty girl with a dirty-blonde pixie cut walks up to her table a few minutes later. 

“Excuse me, _Anne_?” She asks sweetly, gesturing to Anne’s outfit. “I love that dress.”

“Oh, thank you,” Anne glances down at her dress. She really did pick her best one if she does say so herself. “Are you Cara?” Anne smiles, holding out a hand for her to shake when she confirms that she is indeed Anne’s last appointment of the day.

“I know I’m a little early but I was too excited to wait,” Cara laughs. Anne is immediately charmed by it. Her laugh is like a breathy hiccup, quirky and cute and she’s perhaps a little too honest for her own good. Another quality that Anne likes. She thinks Harry might be just as enamored of this girl as she’s already feeling. 

“No problem, dear,” Anne tells her, an easy, genuine smile on her lips. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually, I already ordered something,” Cara admits just as Louis arrives with her drink. “Thank you,” she says politely while Anne glares at him in warning.

“Happy to be of service,” Louis replies with his trademark smirk. “Anything else I can get for you ladies?” 

“No, thank you,” Anne says pointedly nodding for Louis to go away while Cara is looking at him instead of her.

“Alright then. Enjoy your drinks.” He’s still wearing that damn smirk when he walks away, returning to his place behind the bar.

“So,” Anne says after taking a deep breath, ready to focus on the girl in front of her, the one who might actually be _good_ for her son. “You seem like a lovely young lady, why aren’t you already attached?”

“Oh, _well_ ,” Cara takes a sip of her drink, talking with her hands once she sits it back down. “I’ve always had terrible luck at choosing partners and they always turn out to be people that I could never take home to my parents, you know? I just want to get it right for once. So, when I saw your ad, I thought it was brilliant. This guy already has the approval of someone’s mother, even if it _is_ his own, so he must really be someone worth getting to know.”

Anne smiles so hard her cheeks might start hurting if she keeps it up. “Cara, dear, let me give you my son’s card.”

~@~

Louis strums his guitar on the pavement outside of Catering Styles. Piano is his instrument, but carting a keyboard to downtown London seems a little excessive, even for him. He’s not exactly Ronnie Wood with a guitar but he’s good enough that they let him play “mood music” at the restaurant sometimes so he’s comfortable enough to perform in front of who knows how many strangers.

Louis has no idea what he’s potentially gotten himself into so, for today, he thinks he’s just going to play some music, maybe something flirty if he sees someone cute. If they happen to be Harry Styles, wonderful, and if they’re not, then that’s okay too. 

He’d originally taken Harry’s card out of spite, to piss Anne off by wooing her son like nobody’s business, but quickly realized that he can’t start a relationship based on spite. He’d doom them from the start and only end up proving Anne right about him. So, he tells himself that he’s not here specifically _for_ Harry. He could definitely use the extra money that busking will give him and, if he sees a cute guy, then it’s up to fate whether the person he’ll be flirting with is Harry Styles or not.

He starts off just playing around, singing some Amy Winehouse. “[ Valerie ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1om5SLZiUA9DVEnjcZBBzA?si=n8Yj7d_XSLuBxKecfAhtmA) ” gets him a few pieces of loose change tossed into his guitar case but he scandalizes one old lady who clutches her pearls when he sings “ [ Back To Black ](https://open.spotify.com/track/30FURVTCpbKyykjSEQzGkH?si=N9ia7Y9LRuC-8LXll-XWqw)”. His smile seems to win her over in the end because she drops a quarter into his guitar case with a wink before she leaves, a skip in her step.

He doesn’t know the whole Amy Winehouse catalogue so he switches to The Fray next, singing “[ Look After You ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5l6hpyTGBK0LAAxgPnqTQL?si=3teg0JKMQa6HtkZi4OACFA)” and eyeing up a dark-skinned man that walks by sipping seductively on a Starbucks drink. He smirks at Louis as he passes, giving his hips a little extra sway.

He gives the performance of his life, singing Kings of Leon’s “[ Beautiful War ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=250jSBSIiNU&list=RD250jSBSIiNU&start_radio=1&t=49)” to the three people gathered to listen. He’s having so much fun that he almost forgets that he’d ever come out with the intention to possibly pull.

After a little over an hour, Louis sees _him_ , a gorgeous guy in blue wide-leg trousers and a sweater vest covered in sheep. He’s speaking on his mobile to someone he calls “Mother” in the most exasperated tone that Louis has ever heard. It’s true, he _may not_ be Harry Styles, but having met Harry’s mother, Louis would bet nearly every penny he has that this is, in fact, Anne’s son. 

He stops mid-”[ Viva La Vida ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1mea3bSkSGXuIRvnydlB5b?si=wHHNfgc4R5GCmGl0QGHJSQ)” and switches to a more flirtatious song, blatantly watching the gorgeous man the whole time. Seems like fate has decided that Harry and Louis are meant to be. Louis tries not to feel smug about it. After all, maybe this is Harry’s ridiculously good-looking assistant or something and Louis has gotten it all wrong.

“[ You’re just too good to be true ](https://open.spotify.com/track/2GFExyKXf9383tSRSrEHEt?si=Okan_c2ATladajtlVc0FpQ).” He croons, not caring what the man’s name is in the slightest. “Can’t take my eyes off you. You’d be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much.”

Perhaps it’s the abrupt song switch, but it gets maybe-Harry’s attention and he glances over at Louis as he walks toward him. His face is dour from whatever his mother is telling him but it softens when he sees the way Louis is looking at him. 

“At long last love has arrived and I thank God I’m alive.” Louis really plays it up, looking up toward the heavens as he ‘thanks God’ before returning his gaze to the man on the mobile, a big smile on his face. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.”

Maybe-Harry walks past Louis to go into his shop, but he keeps glancing over his shoulder, an almost smile taking over his frown until he disappears into the shop. 

Louis bites down on his own smile and stays in his spot, singing along to his guitar for a little bit longer. Eventually, he goes home and tries to rest before the extra shift he picked up at Horan’s Coffee House later. Today’s mission is accomplished. Tomorrow’s goal: actually speaking to his mystery man.

~@~

Harry’s favorite part of his morning is usually his walk to work. It’s a chance to get some fresh air, as fresh as the city offers anyway, and clear his head. Yesterday, it had been marred by a phone call from his mother. Of course he loves her, but she’s too hard headed for her own good sometimes. And she’s always butting into his love life. The thing that had saved his morning was the cute busker that had been outside his shop. 

Harry can still remember the burn from the blush on his cheeks when the man with the guitar had seen him coming and started playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You”. True to the lyrics, he’d kept his gaze on Harry the whole time, except when he was thanking the heavens, a mischievous half-smile curving his lips. Harry had eaten it up. He’d become so flustered, he’d forgotten for a moment he’d been talking to his mother until she’d called out his name. Even after hanging up with her, Harry had been in a good mood for the rest of the morning. He’d checked outside more than once, but the busker had gone not long after Harry had gotten to work. 

He’s back now though and Harry’s already fighting a smile as he pretends he’s not waiting for the other man to notice him. Sure enough, when he does, he stops playing the Imagine Dragons song he’d been playing and switches to Michael Jackson’s “[ The Way You Make Me Feel ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0sKlV58cODrjxGFOyf9IXY?si=zTiv41LZRJqsMN5_MsUxJA)”. 

“Hey, pretty baby with the high heels on,” he sings, giving Harry a wink as Harry fights not to shift into a strut in his high-heeled boots. It’s nice to have them appreciated. “You give me fever like I've never, ever known.”

Harry can feel the heat in his cheeks again and he can’t just walk by today. He stops, pulling out his wallet and taking out one of his business cards as the other man continues to sing to him. Feeling emboldened by the over the top flirtation of being serenaded out in the middle of the street, Harry takes the pen he keeps in his pocket and writes his personal number on the back of the card. Showing it to the flirty busker, he holds a hand up to his head, thumb sticking out towards his ear and pinky pointing to his mouth in the universal sign of ‘call me’ before he drops the card as well as a tenner into the guitar case at the man’s feet. With a wink and a grin of his own, Harry turns to walk into work.

“Wait,” the man says, cutting off his song as he bends to pick up the card. “Harry,” he reads off of it, looking back up at Harry with a sparkle in his eyes. “Don’t you want to know who’s calling you?”

“Oh, is flirtatious busker not your name?” Harry asks, feeling playful. 

“Sadly, no,” the man grins back. “It’s Louis Tomlinson. Not quite as catchy, I’m afraid. ”

“I like Louis,” Harry tells him, biting his lip and gesturing at the guitar. “Sorry, I just… didn’t want to interrupt.”

Louis glances down at the guitar, weighing his options. “Think I’d rather talk to you, if I’m honest.”

Harry tries not to smile at that but he knows that it’s obvious how close he is to breaking from the way he can feel his nose scrunching. “I have to,” he gestures clumsily over his shoulder at his shop, “go to work. But you can talk to me as much as you want later, if you call me.”

“When’s a good time to call?” Louis asks, tucking the card into his pocket.

“After six should be good.”

“And how late is too late to call?”

Harry loves how considerate that question is. “Um,” he shrugs, wanting to give Louis as much time as possible without seeming desperate. “After midnight?”

Louis’ eyebrows raise at that answer but he’s still smiling when he responds with a ”well alright then,” so Harry will take it as a win. He doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing. If they’re setting themselves up for a romance or maybe just a one night stand. He knows what he’s hoping for, but he guesses he’ll see when Louis calls him.

~@~

It’s just after six when Harry’s phone rings with a call from an unknown number and he gets butterflies in his belly.

“Hello?”

“Hi. This is Flirtatious Busker calling for Harry Styles, please.”

Harry smiles and tries to take on a stern tone.. “I’m afraid I didn’t give my number to anyone with that name. Care to tell me how you got it, Mr. Busker?”

“Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I nicked it off some poor bloke when he wasn’t looking. His loss is my gain though.”

“What if I really wanted that bloke to have my number? What if he was my destiny, huh?” Harry pouts. 

“If he was your destiny, he would have held onto it better. Maybe I’m your destiny. Did you ever think of that?”

“I guess it’s possible,” Harry concedes. “So, what can I do for you then, Mr. Busker?”

“You can go out with me this weekend. On a date.”

Harry knows he’s smiling like an idiot when he says. “Looks like it’s a date then.”

~@~

“Excuse me?”

Harry turns from where he’s been setting up a tray of mini shepherd's pie bites to see if the voice that called out is talking to him and it appears that is the case when he sees the pretty blonde girl smiling at him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” He asks politely. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your work but I just wanted to give my compliments to the chef on these hors d'oeuvres. They’re absolutely incredible,” she says, making a face that looks fairly orgasmic. 

“Oh. Thank you,” Harry says with a light chuckle that turns into a shy smile. “That would be me, I’m the chef.” He’s not used to people coming up to him to compliment his food at his work functions. People are usually all business at these things and his compliments come in the form of getting paid in full without having to hunt down the client. 

“Mm,” Cara hums, a flirty twist to her smile as she looks him up and down. “Hot _and_ talented. That’s a dangerous combination right there.”

Harry laughs at the unexpected flirting. “Um, thank you again. I think.”

“Oh, it was definitely a compliment,” she confirms, playfully wiggling her impressive eyebrows at him and making him laugh again. “I’m Cara,” she offers.

“Harry,” he returns. “I’d offer to shake your hand but…,” he trails off, holding up a rubber glove covered hand. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Cara waves the comment off. “Harry, huh?” she repeats thoughtfully. “I like that. It’s a bit of a grandpa name but you give it youth.”

“Not sure whether to be slightly offended on behalf of my name or not but I’ll take it,” Harry jokes, but honestly, he likes Cara. She’s quirky, which is a quality that he himself takes pride in. 

“Good,” Cara approves with a nod of her head. “We should all take pride in our little peculiarities. They’re what make us unique.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Harry says, looking around and lifting an empty champagne flute with disappointment, “you know, when I’m not on the clock.”

“Well, Harry, I’d ask something dramatic like ‘do you want to get out of here’ for that drink, but I think we’re both forced to be here for a while longer,” Cara pouts for a few seconds before her smile returns easily. “How about a raincheck?”

“Um,” Harry blinks in surprise at being hit on for the second time in as many days, “yeah, that sounds great.”

“Good. Do you have a pen?” Cara asks, setting her plate down on the counter to grab a napkin.

“No, sorry. I don’t,” Harry says, looking around for one.

“Got one!” Cara calls out when she sees one hiding under an empty notepad. She grabs the pen and uses it to write her number on the napkin. When she’s done writing, Cara lifts the napkin and presses her lips to it, leaving behind a lipstick kiss. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she confesses, handing the napkin over to Harry. 

“Me too, if I’m honest,” Harry admits, smiling at the laugh it gets him.

“I have some lipstick in my bag if you want to return the favor,” Cara replies without a single hint of judgement and that makes Harry like her even more. 

“Maybe later,” he laughs, carefully folding the napkin and tucking it into his pocket before switching out his gloves and getting back to work.

~@~

Anne is practically dancing in her seat when Harry arrives at La Bonne Fourchette for their weekly family dinner. If things went according to plan, Harry had a catering gig yesterday at a corporate event that Cara set up using Harry’s business card that Anne had given her and she cannot wait to hear about it. 

“‘Lo, Mum,” Harry says with a sweet smile, giving Anne a kiss on the cheek before pulling out his own chair and taking a seat. 

They’re the only ones at the restaurant so far but Anne wasn’t about to lose their table if anyone was late, as both her children are prone to be, so she’d talked the hostess into seating her alone. In a way, she’s glad Gemma and Michal aren’t here yet because it gives her leave to subtly grill Harry without judgement.

“Good to see you, darling,” Anne hums, trying to hide her smugness over the fact that Harry can’t seem to stop smiling. “How has your week been?”

“Really good, actually,” Harry says, turning the full force of his grin on her. “How has yours been?”

“Oh,” she scoffs, “same old, same old. Nothing new, dear.” She waves off the question, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand as she leans forward, eager to get back to Harry’s half of the conversation. She loves how thoughtful her son has always been but this is the one time in her life when she just wants to skip it. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been so good about your week?”

“Well, first--”

“Hello, Hello,” Gemma says, interrupting as she arrives with Michal behind her.

“Hey, Gems,” Harry rises from his seat to give his sister a hug and a kiss on the cheek, pulling Michal into a handshake/side hug right after.

Anne stands to hug Gemma and Michal too, only feeling slightly disappointed that she didn’t get an answer yet. As soon as they’re all settled at the table, she tries to strike up the conversation again. 

“Harry was just telling me about his week, weren’t you, love?” Anne says in a rush before anyone can bring up another topic.

“Oh, yeah. I guess,” Harry smiles with a blush, looking away from his mother.

“Oh! Oh, I know that look,” Gemma teases, pointing at her brother’s face. “ _You’ve met someone_.”

“I mean,” Harry tilts his head, like there’s any chance he can play it off but he seems to realize that he looks way too happy to be able to. “Yeah.”

Anne’s heart warms at how happy Harry looks. “Well? Tell us about them,” she urges, glaring at the waiter that looks like he’s headed their way. He smiles at first, but it quickly melts off his face when he catches the full force of Anne’s glare and he swerves at the last second heading to a different table.

“They seem great,” Harry answers with a shrug, blushing under the weight of everyone’s eyes. “I haven’t even gone out with them yet, so I don’t know much, but, yeah, they seem pretty amazing.”

“Well, that’s lovely, darling,” Anne says, patting Harry’s hand affectionately and feeling unbearably smug even with just that small bit of information. 

“Yeah, that’s wonderful, Harry,” Gemma adds with a grin. It’s one of those secret sibling grins that Anne isn’t supposed to know means she’ll be asking more questions later.

“Thanks,” Harry answers with a laugh. Hmm, looks like Anne will have to pester Gemma for more information later. 

“Dude, where’s our server?” Gemma asks, looking around the restaurant. 

“Honestly, I don’t understand why we have so much trouble getting service every time we go to a restaurant these days,” Anne murmurs. 

~@~

Harry runs his hands through his hair, trying to get that artfully tousled look in the mirror by his front door. He’s a primper, he admits it. 

Messing with his hair is working alright, but honestly Harry’s mostly just trying to find something to do until his sister arrives with the blouse she’s letting him borrow for his date tonight. He’s a little nervous and he knows he’ll feel better once he’s fully dressed. She’s cutting it pretty close though and that’s putting his nerves on edge even more. 

“C’mon, Gem,” Harry whispers in exasperation when another minute passes without a knock at his door. 

When the knock finally comes, he bolts to answer, pulling Gemma into his flat and not even noticing that his mother follows Gemma in.

In a rush, he works to get the blouse on and buttoned, flattening it out against his chest with his hands as he checks himself out in the mirror. “Thank goodness. It’s almost time for my date to arrive! Thanks for letting me borrow this, Gem.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry we were late. Mum drives like such a mum.” Gemma apologizes with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Why was mum even driving? Where are the two of you going?” Harry asks, eyeing both of them as he fixes the collar of the shirt double-checking it in the mirror. 

“Mother-daughter movie night,” Anne answers, looking a little offended that she didn’t even get a hello, but she’s even more concerned about the top Harry plans on wearing. “Sweetie, you know that I love your sense of style but I’m not sure that shirt is a good idea for your date tonight. Girls don’t really like to be shown up on dates.” She lifts a hand to cover her mouth as though she’s revealing a secret when she stage-whispers, “What if you look prettier than she does?”

Harry snorts at her. “Lucky for me, my date tonight isn’t with a girl. Though I will keep that in mind for my date with Cara tomorrow night.”

“Wait. You’re dating a man _and_ a woman??” Anne squawks. If Harry didn’t know exactly why she’s so appalled by the idea, he’d find it funny.

“Get it, little bro,” Gemma smirks, offering Harry a fist bump but pulling back before their fists can meet. “As long as they both know about each other and you’re not being a horn dog.”

“It’s a first date for each of them. I’m just seeing if there’s even something there,” Harry explains, waiting patiently for his sister to weigh his answer. She seems to deem it okay because she finally bumps their fists together. 

His mother isn’t so certain. “Harry, are you sure this is a good idea? Dating two people at once can get pretty messy.”

“Yes, I am sure it’s a good idea. Now, you have to go because Louis will be here any minute,” Harry says, all but pushing his mother and sister out the door.

“His name is Louis?” Anne asks, but she doesn’t get an answer as Harry closes the door in her face. Sometimes that’s the only way to get his mother to leave.

Anne’s eye twitches as Gemma drags her back to the car. 

~@~

“Hey,” Harry greets Louis at his front door, wearing a sweet smile.

“You look…,” Louis trails off, at a loss for words as his gaze trails over Harry’s body, “amazing.” 

“Thanks,” Harry’s grin grows. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he retorts, giving Louis an impressed once-over too as he steps out, closing the door behind himself. “Kind of disappointed you don’t have your guitar with you though, Mr. Busker.”

Louis already loves the way he can tell when Harry is being playful by the dimple that appears in his left cheek as he tries not to smile. “My dates call me Louis,” Louis laughs. “And I do have my guitar with me as a matter of fact,” he wiggles his eyebrows as they walk out of Harry’s building and towards his vehicle. “It’s in the car. Does that win me some boyfriend material points?”

“Depends on if you use it later,” Harry smirks.

“That’s what she said,” Louis jokes, laughing at the widening of Harry’s eyes before he’s laughing too and giving Louis a playful push. 

_“That_ definitely gets you boyfriend material points.”

“Woo!” Louis celebrates, opening the car door for Harry. The night already seems primed for success.

~@~

“Wow,” Harry says, looking around at the walls of the nautical themed restaurant as they’re led to their table. His eyes are still on the walls after the hostess seats them and tells them that their server will be with them shortly. “I love a nautical theme, Harry tells Louis once they’re alone, “but this place went hard.”

“The food is good at least,” Louis chuckles, admiring Harry while he admires the decorations. 

Their server comes by to get their orders after a few minutes and then they’re left to their own devices again.

Hey,” he says, getting a fun idea. “Let’s say you just won a free tattoo but you’re only allowed to pick something that’s on one of these walls. What do you choose?”

“Okay,” Harry nods, agreeing to play the game. He looks around with a sharper eye, taking everything in carefully. “That ship painting over there.”

Louis follows where Harry is pointing and scans the painting with a critical eye. “Interesting,” he hums, moving his gaze to the wall behind Harry and nodding at it. “I’d pick that painting of a compass over there.”

“Oh, I like that,” Harry says, squinting at the painting. “Hang on, that doesn’t say ‘north’.” He gasps when he realizes what it said. “It’s pointing towards ‘home’.”

“Yeah,” Louis grins, proud that Harry caught that detail. “That’s why I like it so much.”

“That’s beautiful, Louis,” Harry says, letting his face rest in his palm as he tries not to grin stupidly at how much he loves that Louis likes that.

~@~

Harry is a little anxious. His date with Louis has gone wonderfully so far and now Louis has offered to take Harry back to his place to serenade him with his piano, which he says he’s even better at than his guitar. The thing is, Harry can’t help but think that maybe Louis is going to want to have sex and that’s fine but Harry doesn’t think he wants it to _just_ be sex. Over the course of their dinner, Louis had proven himself to be sweet, funny, and considerate in equal measure. He’d been wonderfully playful with Harry and absolutely lovely to the waitstaff. Harry has just been waiting for the other shoe to drop and he’s desperately hoping that this isn’t it, that all Louis wants is a one night stand.

“So, there’s something I should probably tell you before we go in here,” Louis says, pausing at his front door.

Oh God, Harry thinks, this is it. It’s not a one night stand after all, he’s going to tell Harry that he’s actually married or not to look in the basement if he wants to live or--

Harry’s thoughts are immediately cut off by the front door opening and an adorable little blond boy crying out in happiness and throwing himself at Louis’ leg.

“Ernest! How many times have I told you not to open the front door,” Louis scolds, scooping the boy up into his arms.

“Five!” Ernest guesses, causing Louis to chuckle. 

“I’ve told you a lot more than five times.” He twists to look at Harry, expression apologetic. “He’s just recently figured out that he’s tall enough to reach the door handle,” Louis explains before turning back to the little boy to continue the scolding. “What if it hadn’t been me at the door, bud? It could have been someone very, very mean.”

“Okay, I won’t open the door anymore,” Ernest pouts, hugging Louis’ neck tightly.

“Louis save me!!!” a little red-haired girl squeals, running by the front door, followed by a teenage girl hot on her heels.

He looks back at Harry, something hopeful but questioning in his eyes, and nods for him to follow him inside, closing the door behind them. 

“So, you’re a father?” Harry asks, stunned at the prospect and surprised that Louis hadn’t mentioned it before now. 

“Me? Nah,” Louis laughs, tickling the little boy in his arms as he adds, “these little monsters are my youngest siblings, aren’t you, Ernie?”

Oh. Harry knew that Louis’ mother had passed, and he knew that Louis had a ton of siblings. They had talked about those things earlier in the evening. It just hadn’t occurred to Harry that maybe Louis was left with the task of taking care of what was left of his family.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” the pretty blonde teenager says, appearing in the doorway with the other child on her hip. “I lost track of time. They should have been in bed half an hour ago.”

“It’s no big deal, Pheebs,” Louis says, stepping over and hugging the girl with his free arm. “Besides, Harry would have met you lot eventually. Where’s Daisy anyway?” 

Despite his shock at seeing Louis with so many children in his home, Harry likes that Louis seems to be expecting him to be around for a while. 

“Daisy is upstairs showering off the mess these two made with dinner,” the teenage girl answers, probably Phoebe if Harry remembers correctly from their talk at the restaurant. At least, he assumes “Pheebs” is a nickname.

“Alright, maybe go let her know not to be walking around in a towel when she’s done and I’ll handle putting these two to bed,” Louis responds, shifting Ernest to his hip and taking the little red-haired girl from her arms to rest on his other other hip. He holds them both up with ease despite the fact that they’re not exactly toddlers anymore. They must be at least five or six and Harry is trying not to let his eyes notice how holding them is really showing off the definition of Louis’ biceps. 

“Do you want to wait here while I put them to bed?” Louis asks him, as the older girl runs upstairs. “You can help if you want, but I won’t judge if you choose not to.”

“I’ll help,” Harry agrees easily. He was shocked when he first thought that Louis was a father but it was more that Louis hadn’t said anything than the actual idea of him having kids. “I love kids.”

Louis smiles, leaning toward him to offer him the little girl. “This is Doris. She’s not shy at all,” he explains as she happily reaches for Harry to let him hold her. “Meanwhile, Ernie takes a little time to warm up to people.” 

Harry can tell that’s true by the way Ernest clings to Louis’ neck, hiding his face. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Doris. I’m Harry,” he tells her as he follows Louis up the stairs.

“Me too. I like your shirt. You look like a pretty garden,” Doris answers looking down at the floral pattern on his blouse and melting Harry’s heart already. 

“Thank you. I like your shirt too,” Harry says of the purple sleep shirt covered in Disney princesses as they turn into a room with two small beds with dinosaur sheets.

“That one’s hers,” Louis points out the far bed as he sets Ernest down on his own. 

Harry walks over, settling Doris on her bed and turning to see what Louis does next. 

“Wait,” Louis says, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Did you two brush your teeth yet?”

“Yes!” “No!” they shout at the same time. 

“Ernie, are you just saying no so that you can stay up longer?” Louis squints his eyes at him. 

“No,” Ernest answers, trying to look entirely too innocent for it to be real. 

“You have to go to bed, love,” Louis says tenderly, sitting on the edge of Ernest’s bed and brushing hair off his brother’s forehead. “Ohhh, I know why you don’t want to go to bed. I haven’t sang you a song yet. Would that make it easier?”

Ernest nods solemnly, not fussing as Louis tucks him into his bed so Harry does the same for Doris. 

“Will you sing too, Harry?” Doris asks sweetly, melting a little more of Harry’s heart. 

“Um.” Harry glances at Louis. “I guess, if I know the song, and if Louis doesn’t mind.”

“Oh, I bet you’ll know the song,” Louis tells him with a laugh. “You ready?” he asks his siblings, waiting until they give him the go ahead before taking a deep breath and singing lightly with a questionable Scottish accent, “When the cold wind is calling, and the sky is clear and bright, misty mountains sing and beckon, lead me out into the light.”

Harry grins, recognising the song from Disney’s Brave just like Louis said he would. He joins in on the chorus, adding his even worse attempt at a Scottish accent to the mix.[ “I will ride, I will fly. Chase the wind and touch the sky. I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky.” ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5yyqx4brn6Bm9U1Rj9ENnz?si=ugtnJFbxR5CXgrBf1b2oxA)

Together, they smile at each other through a series of “na na na”s and “la na na”s as the children giggle at their foolishness until the song is over. 

“Okay, for real though,” Louis says, trying to calm them down. “You have to go to sleep this time, promise?”

“Promise,” both children say in unison.

“Okay,” Louis accepts their answer, switching on a tiny lamp on Ernie’s bedside table and turning off the overhead light before he settles again at Ernie’s side. Another deep breath and the loveliest sound falls from his lips as he starts singing Songbird to them. [ “For you, there'll be no more crying. For you, the sun will be shining. And I feel that when I'm with you, It's alright, I know it's right.” ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6DrXZwTuhl5Ow4mcmSWjME?si=lJocGYYUSjG-3nw2ncao5Q)

Harry listens contentedly to the soft tones of Louis’ beautiful voice, joining in to add harmony on the chorus and catching Louis by surprise. He doesn’t seem to mind, smiling as they continue singing his little siblings to sleep. 

Louis checks on them but the song seems to have truly lulled them both to sleep so he quietly leads Harry out of the room. 

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” Harry asks, pleasantly surprised at the thought that they might have even more in common. “Or was your introduction to Songbird through Eva Cassidy?”

“First of all, who doesn’t love Fleetwood Mac? Stevie Nicks is a goddess among women. And, before you ask, yes, I know she didn’t sing that song. The more important question is why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that, Mr. Styles?” Louis asks playfully, hand grazing Harry’s as they walk down the stairs together. 

“You didn’t ask,” Harry shrugs, just as teasing. 

“Well,” Louis says, stopping them at the bottom of the stairs to look at Harry earnestly, “it was really beautiful.”

Harry bites his lip trying to keep from smiling again but it’s an impossible task and his smile breaks free. “Thank you. I think yours was too. It looks like we make pretty great music together.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Louis groans with a roll of his eyes as he steps closer. 

“Seems like you like cheesy,” Harry smirks, reaching out for Louis’ hand to gently pull him closer. It seems like what he wants and Harry wants him to know that the feeling is mutual.

“Does the night have to be over for me to kiss you?” Louis wonders, but really they’re already breathing each other’s air, so Harry feels no shame in answering with a silent shake of his head before closing the distance completely.

Harry ends up with his back up against the wall as Louis’ hands grip his hips greedily, mouth moving sensuously against Harry’s own, their kiss creating magic between them that sets Harry’s skin to singing. It’s so much, just on the edge of too much, and they both seem to forget that there are other people in the house until a laugh from the other room captures their attention and breaks them apart.

“Sorry,” Louis breathes with a chuckle, backing away from Harry a little but his hands seem reluctant to leave Harry’s hips. “Got a bit carried away.”

“I mean, it’s not like you were the only one,” Harry tells him, circling Louis’ wrists with his own hands. He doesn’t push them away because to be honest, he really doesn’t want to.

“C’mon.” Louis twists his hands to catch onto Harry’s, releasing one but using the other to tug him toward the living room. “Come meet my sisters.”

Harry follows, and Louis formally introduces him to the other set of twins in his life, Daisy and Phoebe. They all sit down to watch a movie and Daisy and Phoebe pick on them relentlessly as Louis and Harry cuddle openly. It’s a great first date and it definitely feels like it could be the start of something wonderful. 

~@~

Cara looks beautiful when she picks Harry up for their date the next night. She had insisted that since she was the one who had asked, she should drive too. Harry likes that she doesn’t feel the need to adhere to gender norms. A sentiment that is only echoed when she pauses to tell him how much she likes his blouse as she opens the car door for him. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, looking down at it. It’s one of his own this time, something slightly less feminine than what he’d worn for his date with Louis but still not exactly the picture of masculinity. There are flowers again but they’re a sheer pattern on a solid black shirt that you can only tell are flowers if you get close enough. “My mum didn’t think I should wear anything like this on our date. She said I shouldn’t risk looking prettier than my date.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t mind,” Cara says with an easy laugh and a wink. “It just means everyone looking at us will be jealous of me for a different reason than if I was the pretty one.”

“I don’t think there’s any competition,” Harry grins, looking her over playfully. “You’re still the pretty one.”

Cara twists her mouth thoughtfully. “Agree to disagree,” she argues, grinning as she shuts the car door behind Harry to circle around the car and slip into the driver’s seat. 

When they get to the restaurant, Cara proves to be just as lovely to every other person she comes across as she is to Harry, thanking the hostess politely and even complimenting their server on her undercut and chatting about the bright colors they both wish they could dye their hair.

“I could never get away with the haircut _or_ the dye job where I work,” Cara pouts momentarily once their server has left to put in their orders.

“I bet they’d look awesome though,” Harry comments, knowing that it’s true. Cara could probably do whatever she wanted with her hair and still look incredible.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” Cara smiles at him, sweetly. “You would look great with long hair, I think.”

“Oh, I do,” Harry says airily, before bursting into giggles when he can’t keep a straight face. “I used to have hair past my shoulders but I cut it off for charity.”

They chat about their favorite charities for a while and somehow that leads into talking about the things they have on their bucket lists. They find out that they’re both romantics and they’ve read a lot of the same books and dream of going to the same places. To Harry, it feels a lot like catching up with an old friend.

“You have a big family?” Harry asks when they’ve reached that part of the night, scratching beneath the surface topics.

“ _I_ think so. Three older siblings feels pretty big to me,” she laughs. “Do you want one or two of them?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Harry waves that thought away with a laugh of his own. “My one older sister is great but she’s definitely enough for me.”

“Well, I tried.” Cara gives up playfully with a shrug.

“Any little kids in your family anywhere?”

“I have a nephew who’s seven,” she states half-heartedly. “He’s sweet.”

“Oh cool. I love little kids. Do you want any in the future?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think I could handle little kids around all the time. At least not at this point in my life. Maybe I’ll change my mind later, but I just want to live my own life first, you know?”

It’s the first time that Harry feels disappointed with anything Cara has said, but he can understand her wanting time for herself. They’re both still young, they have time to figure out that part of their lives later. 

Despite the small hiccup with their preferences on family that can totally be revisited at a later date, Harry still accepts when Cara invites him back to her flat. 

“Not to have sex,” Cara makes sure he’s aware when she offers. “You have to earn that. I just thought it might be nice to have a glass of wine on the balcony or something.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “That sounds really nice.”

So, they end up back at Cara’s flat where she pours Harry a glass of wine and puts on some music that they sway to as they try to find the stars in the sky.

At the end of the night, Harry calls himself a cab to get back home. When it arrives, he kisses Cara goodnight before he leaves and it’s not as intense as kissing Louis was, but there is something warm and sweet about it that keeps Harry from being able to make a definitive decision between the two of them.

He lays awake for a long time going over both dates in his memory. It doesn’t really help. 

~@~

Once a month Harry and his sister come to his mother’s house and Harry cooks dinner for everyone. They can’t possibly eat out every weekend. That wouldn’t be healthy, and Harry is the best cook out of all of them so he cooks for them and pretends like they make him do it. 

Anne waits until he’s distracted at the stove to start trying to get details about his date with Cara out of him. She also hopes to find out about his date with Louis, but only so that she can calculate Cara’s odds of staying in the running for her son’s heart. She really thinks this is the girl for Harry, she just needs to make sure that _he_ sees that. 

“So how were your dates?” She asks, sipping on a glass of red wine. 

She sees how Harry’s back goes rigid for a moment as he freezes at her words. A second later he’s moving again, though more slowly. “They were good,” he answers vaguely, stubbornly refusing to elaborate further. 

“Annnd,” Anne prods. She knows that she can be a bit overbearing sometimes and she tries to pull back when she can, but she’s too strong-willed for her own good sometimes and this happens to be one of those times. Her son’s happiness is important to her, sue her.

“Annnd, don’t start,” Harry says instead of giving her any details on his dates. “We’re only going to fight if we talk about this.”

“I’m not going to fight,” Anne argues. “I just want to know how your dates went. Did you like them both? Are you leaning more towards one than the other? That’s all. I’m only your mother, I just want to hear the details of your life sometimes, that’s all.”

Harry stops what he’s doing, turns the heating element off on the stove and twists to face his mother, counting off the answers on his fingers. “Both dates went well. Yes, I like both Louis and Cara for different reasons. No, I’m not leaning more towards one than the other. I think it’s too early to make a decision like that. They’re both incredible people that I like a lot. Now, are we done? Can I focus on dinner?”

“Fine,” Anne sighs, drinking more wine to keep herself quiet as Harry turns back to the stove. The problem is, and she knows it’s a problem she has, there’s not enough wine in the word to stop her talking for long. “I’d like to hear more about this Cara girl.”

Harry throws his hands up, “Mum, stop.”

“What? She sounds lovely.”

“That’s it! Get out of my kitchen!” Harry says, pointing toward the living room with a wooden spoon.

“It’s my kitchen,” Anne argues, petulantly.

“Not while I’m cooking in it,” Harry tells her, raising an eyebrow, daring her to say more. 

Anne huffs, displeased with the turn the night has taken. “Fine,” she gives in, taking her wine to the living room where Gemma and Michal are watching something on her sofa. 

She knows she pushes too hard sometimes, but she’s yet to learn how to stop. Honestly, she probably never will when it comes to her children. They mean too much to her to let them settle for less than the best. 

~@~

The guys Harry usually dates tend to let Harry stew for a while after their first date before calling, but Louis doesn’t wait around before asking to see Harry again. Harry doesn’t even have to think about it before he says yes even though Louis asks him out on a Monday of all days. 

Mondays are the most hectic days of the week for Harry with new orders coming in on top of clean up from the weekend orders and usually he likes to come home from work and unwind with a nice glass of wine in a bubble bath but there was no way he was going to say no to Louis.

He picks Harry up from work to take him home and cook dinner for him. When Louis walks into Harry’s shop, Harry can’t help thinking that Louis looks even more breathtaking like this, softer somehow in his work attire than when he’d dressed up on the weekend. He likes Louis like this, and he likes that Louis is comfortable enough with him to take him home instead of insisting on going out. 

As soon as they arrive, Louis introduces Harry to his sister Lottie, who’s been watching the others until Louis got home. She’s gorgeous, like her brother, and smiles knowingly as she shakes Harry’s hand. After a few minutes spent teasing Louis, Lottie sweeps out the door with the older twins in tow.

“I asked her to keep them occupied,” Louis explains when Harry gives him a questioning look. He picks up both Doris and Ernest at once, giving them loud, smacking kisses to their cheeks. “Now let me just drop these two at my neighbor's and then our date can officially begin.”

“Harry!” Doris cries when she sees him, reaching out for Harry to hold her. 

“Hello, Doris,” Harry smiles, happy to take her from Louis’ arms. “You don’t have to drop them off, on my account. I can watch them while you cook if you want.”

Louis looks at Harry with a searching gaze. “You’d really be okay with that? Having the kids around during our date?”

“‘Course,” Harry shrugs, looking to the little girl in his arms. “We’re gonna be great friends, aren’t we Doris?”

“My friends call me Dory!” Doris says in what seems to be agreement.

“I love that. May I call you Dory?” Harry asks politely, only to have Doris pat his cheek rather condescendingly for a six year old.

“Duh. That’s why I told you.”

Louis laughs at that, taking Ernie into the house with Harry and Doris following behind. He calls his neighbor to cancel the babysitting session and leaves Harry to play with the twins while he cooks, peeking out of the kitchen every now and again to see what they’re getting up to. He laughs a lot, seeing Harry act like an absolute tit for his siblings. Harry can’t find it in himself to regret his actions when Ernest finally warms up to him though.

They’re all sprawled out on the living room floor after dinner, bellies full and children drifting off to sleep in Harry and Louis’ laps when Louis leans into Harry’s side. 

“Sorry I kind of dropped all my family stuff in your lap the other night,” he says quietly, not wanting to wake Doris or Ernest.

“No, no. It’s fine,” Harry says, trying to alleviate Louis’ worries. “You’ve had a lot of stuff happen in your life that’s not that easy to drop into casual conversation, I get it.”

“Yeah?” Louis checks, seeming genuinely concerned that he’s made a bad impression on Harry. It’s unbearably endearing. “Because I know that all this can be… a bit much, so--” He cuts himself off with a shrug, the line of his shoulders and the way he bites his lip giving away his insecurity. 

“All of _‘this’_ is part of who you are,” Harry smiles at him softly, both of them blue in the light from the tv in the darkened room, reaching for his hand. “And I know we haven’t known each other long, but from everything I’ve seen, I think it’s safe to say I really like who you are.”

Louis’ lips tilt into a smile at Harry’s words. “Okay. Good. I really like you too.”

After they put the kids to bed, Louis and Harry return to the living room, sitting next to each other on the sofa where Louis lays down, pulling Harry down on top of him so that they can kiss comfortably for the next half an hour until Louis takes him home.

Harry has never loved a second date more.

~@~

Louis only hesitates for a moment before agreeing to go with Harry to a family party that he’s catering. Things have been going so well and Louis really likes him. Meeting Harry’s family seems like a good step to take, even if he won’t be meeting Harry’s mum for the first time. Louis knows that Anne probably won’t be thrilled to see him either, but if there is anything Anne was right about, it’s that Harry is worth fighting for. 

“You look nervous,” Harry notices, while they’re waiting just outside the door of the flat where the party is taking place with their arms full of tupperware that’s filled with Harry’s snacks for the party.

“Just a little,” Louis tries to laugh it off, but he’s actually kind of trembling. He really wants to keep Harry but… this could ruin everything. 

The door is opened by Harry’s cousin Jake before Harry can speak, but Louis follows him quickly to the kitchen where Harry puts down his containers and then reaches over to pull Louis’ out of his arms and set them down too. He reaches for Louis next, putting firm, sure hands on Louis’ arms, rubbing up and down soothingly while he assures Louis that everything is going to be fine.

“They’re gonna love you, don’t worry,” he says and somehow Louis doubts that. 

“Harry, darling!” Louis hears a familiar voice call behind him. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Hi, mum.” Harry’s grin looks tight, more of a grimace than anything. 

Anne doesn’t seem to notice as she introduces a pretty young woman to Harry, eyes narrowing when she sees Louis standing next to him but she doesn’t say a thing to Louis. 

Harry is perfectly polite to the girl, telling her what a pleasure it is to meet her before asking for a moment to speak to his mum. He pulls Anne aside, reaching for Louis’ hand to tug him along as he does.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet too, Mum. This is Louis, my date,” Harry says, voice taking on a dangerous edge when he says the word _date._

“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you, Louis,” Anne says, shaking Louis’ hand politely, and then turning back to her son, her pleasant smile never wavering. “I’m sorry, dear, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing a date.”

“Yes. I did,” Harry argues through clenched teeth.

“Well, it must have slipped my mind,” Anne says airily, pointedly not looking at Louis again. 

Louis is kind of getting a kick out of how much his presence seems to be bothering Anne, but he is not really happy about how much Harry is bothered by the situation. 

“The only things that slip your mind, mother, are the ones you choose not to remember because you don’t like them.”

“Harry, it’s fine,” Louis cuts in, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder in the hopes of drawing his attention away from his mother. “I can just go. This is a _family_ party after all.”

“The woman she just introduced me to wasn’t family,” Harry argues with Louis but it’s softer somehow, affectionate arguing. “You don’t deserve to be here any less than she does.”

“Harry, perhaps we should speak about this privately.” Anne says when Harry’s voice starts getting louder.

“Fine,” Harry says, grasping Louis’ hand quickly and kissing his cheek with a subdued, “be right back” before disappearing into the hallway around the corner with his mother. They don’t go far enough though because Louis can still hear every hissed word.

“Harry, really,” Anne says disapprovingly. “That boy looks like such a heartbreaker. And what about that nice girl you were seeing?”

“Be honest, mother. Does Louis really seem like a guy that’s gonna break my heart, or is the problem _really_ just that he’s a guy??”

“Harry, that’s not what I--”

“Yes, it is.” Harry insists, his tone hard. “It is what you meant. And you know what? Louis doesn’t deserve this and neither do I. We’re leaving.”

“Harry!” Anne whisper-yells but a second later Harry is back in the kitchen.

“Let’s go,” he says, pulling Louis by the hand out the door and either not remembering or not caring about the Tupperware containers he left behind. 

They go back to Harry’s flat and Harry paces the kitchen, trying not to curse his mother’s name until Louis follows him and stops his movements, placing both of his hands on Harry’s biceps. 

“I’m so sorry, Louis,” Harry apologizes, relaxing into Louis’ arms when he wraps them around him.

“It’s okay,” Louis murmurs into his hair. “We’re okay.”

They spend the evening on Harry’s sofa, Louis picking out comedy specials and sitcoms to try and make Harry smile again but all he gets are weak imitations. Harry assures Louis over and over again that everything is fine, that _he’s_ fine, but he’s not entirely himself at all. Even when he kisses Louis goodnight later, it’s not the same. There is a yearning to the kiss, but it almost feels like Harry is kissing him as though he doesn’t think he’ll get the chance again. Harry assures him that he’s fine, kissing his lips one last time before saying goodbye, but even with all of Harry’s assurances, Louis can’t stop worrying. 

Harry keeps thinking that things should not be this hard, for either of them. It spirals in his mind all night, leaving something bitter lingering in its wake. He waits until Louis texts that he got home safe, and then, after fighting with himself for a long time, Harry calls Cara and sets up a second date.

~@~

Harry cooks dinner at Cara’s flat for the two of them a few nights later, but even Cara can tell that there’s something on his mind. 

“Chocolate button for your thoughts,” she says, shaking the purple package at him as she leans against the kitchen counter beside where he’s cooking.

“No, put those away,” Harry scolds with a laugh. “You’ll ruin your appetite. And mine.”

“Tell you what, I’ll put them away,” she says, slyly slipping one of the sweets into her mouth with a grin, “if you tell me what’s wrong.”

Harry sighs, shaking his head at her, as he stirs the sauce he’s making. 

“Okayyyy,” she warns in a teasing tone, eating another chocolate button. “Guess I’m ruining my appetite then.”

Luckily, Harry’s sauce is done, so he moves it off the hot burner on the stovetop and turns the stove off, facing Cara to find her watching him with a smirk on her face.

“Put the buttons down slowly and step away,” Harry tells her with a faux-stern tone. 

“No,” she laughs, holding the package close to her body, ready to cradle it and run should Harry give chase.

“Are you gonna make me take them from you?”

“Mayyybe.”

Harry stares at her. She stares back, trying and failing to look as serious as he does. His gaze flicks to the hand holding the package of buttons and back to her face.

Cara raises an impressively unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

Harry lunges, going after her when Cara darts away with a happy squeal. He catches up to her on the sofa when she falls onto it. He lets himself fall on top of her, easily wrestling the bag from her hands and tossing it on the coffee table, both of them laughing and trying to catch their breath. 

This feels like one of those moments in the movies when the couple realizes how good they are together. Their eyes flick to each other’s mouths and maybe they even lick their lips in anticipation before their mouths crash together and they start making out in earnest. Cara looks like she’s sort of expecting that to happen too, but Harry pulls back. He sits up properly and she does the same, watching him with a worried expression. This is not that moment. This isn’t a movie.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurts out instead. It’s not what he meant to say. He’s not sure why he’s said it, but it’s good that he’s gotten it out in the open now, he guesses.

“Hey, me too!” Cara’s face lights up, like this is just one more thing for them to bond over. She nudges his shoulder excitedly, “Hey, I have some model friends so I get invited to a lot of fashion shows, which are excellent places to scope out hot guys _and_ girls. We can totally check them out together now!”

Harry laughs lightly but something twists in his stomach at the idea. He’s always been a little on the jealous side. He doesn’t mind his partners noticing other people’s beauty, they’re only human after all, but he doesn’t exactly relish the idea of chatting about it. Maybe it won’t be as big a deal as his brain is making it seem though. He hasn’t had someone stick around after telling them he’s bi before so he supposes he’s in an entirely new ballpark now with all new rules he’s going to have to learn.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Cara says, lifting him from whatever rabbithole his thoughts have dragged him down as she pulls him off the sofa and back to the kitchen. 

They eat a nice meal and Harry thinks things feel like they’re back to normal. Cara must think so too because she doesn’t ask what’s on his mind anymore, wandering off to get some music playing as Harry starts washing dishes once they’re done eating.

[ “I Kissed a Girl” ](https://open.spotify.com/track/005lwxGU1tms6HGELIcUv9?si=wu_cAwcDSrqoIMakrd1Mmg) by Katy Perry plays on Spotify and Cara comes up to join Harry with a huge grin.

“Seemed appropriate,” she states as she starts singing along, making little hand motions to get him to join in too. 

Harry laughs, appreciating her sense of humor and together, they sing and dance with light hearts and soapy hands.

~@~

Harry thought he had made a decision. After how horribly his last date with Louis had gone and how bothered he’d been by his mother’s reaction, Harry had decided he didn’t want to put either of them through that again. So he had called Cara and set up a date and it had been so simple cooking for her in her flat and chasing her all around just for a bit of fun. It had been so easy with her that he thought he had made the right choice. He had planned to break things off with Louis and just move forward with Cara even though it broke his heart to even think about it. 

But then, Louis had called, and _how sweet_ it had been to hear his voice. Harry had practically melted when Louis had asked him out again. This time he had invited Louis to his flat. 

The last time they’d been at Harry’s, Harry had been going on a downward spiral of doubt and self-loathing. He wants to make it up to Louis and maybe cover those less than pleasant memories with better ones. Plus, Harry thinks he should tell Louis about his sexuality too and give him a chance to decide if he still wants to be with Harry once he knows. It seems only fair.

“Hey, love,” Louis smiles at him when he opens the door and Harry’s first urge is to kiss him. He told Louis there was no dress code but Harry is still surprised to see Louis in grey joggers and a baggy black hoodie. His hair is a floofy, windswept mess and he looks the softest he’s ever looked, which just makes Harry want him even more.

“Hey,” Harry says instead of kissing Louis, like the insecure idiot he is. And it’s just one tiny word, but Harry is sure that adoration flows over every letter of it as he reaches out for Louis’ hand to pull him inside the flat. 

Louis does what Harry was too unsure to do, gathering Harry in his arms immediately and kissing him sweetly. “Missed you,” he says against Harry’s lips.

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach in a delicate swoop. “Me too.”

“No little ones underfoot, no mothers introducing you to strange women. What _shall_ we do with ourselves?” Louis asks with a teasing grin. 

“Oh my god,” Harry groans, resting his forehead on Louis’ shoulder. “Don’t remind me about her.”

“Sorry, love,” Louis chuckles, raising a hand to the back of Harry’s head. He plays with his hair soothingly until Harry feels a little better, raising his head to look at him.

“I’m going to make you an incredible dinner to make up for that, but first, there’s something I want to tell you.”

Louis is a little worried when he hears Harry say those words but he did just promise Louis dinner after so he’s not too concerned when Harry leads him over to the sofa to sit down. 

“I probably should have told you sooner, but I’ve had terrible luck in the past with people having issues with it, so I guess I’ve been putting it off,” Harry says, only realising when he’s done speaking that he’s still grasping Louis’ hand.

“Okay, I’m listening,” Louis says, pulling their hands into his lap so that he can hold Harry’s hand between both of his.

“Okay,” Harry says, taking a breath and then shaking his head and laughing at himself. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, you probably could have guessed by now, especially after what my mum did the other day, but I wanted to say it out loud so that you wouldn’t have to guess. Anyway, here goes,” he takes another breath, this time for dramatic effect. “I’m bi.”

Louis gives Harry that sort of look that says ‘you’re so fucking dense but I wouldn’t change you for anything’. “Thanks for telling me, but it doesn’t matter to me as long as you like _me_.”

“God, _do I_.” Harry confirms, letting Louis free their hands so that he can pull Harry into a cuddle.

“There’s something I should tell you, too, before you lock in on that decision,” Louis continues, kissing the top of Harry’s head and then pulling away. He’s sure Harry will want some space when he tells him the truth even if he doesn’t seem like he wants it now. “I didn’t have to guess about your sexuality because I already knew.”

“What? How?” Harry asks, pulling back even more. It seems Louis was right about him wanting more space.

“I don’t know how much I should say because it isn’t my story to tell, but the other day when I met your mother wasn’t the first time that I met your mother,” Louis looks down, ashamed to have kept this secret for so long. He continues when Harry remains quiet, knowing that he’s probably digging his own grave. “That day we met outside your work, it wasn’t an accident.”

“Louis, what are you talking about?” Harry asks, standing up from the sofa to pace the floor. He looks hurt and Louis hates that but he doesn’t follow him. He doesn’t try to hug Harry because he knows that’s about making himself feel better, seeing if Harry will still accept his affection. What Harry needs right now are answers, and Louis will give him whatever he needs.

“Okay, you know I work at a restaurant bar, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry answers, stopping his pacing to look at Louis expectantly while he waits for the rest of Louis’ explanation.

“I saw your mother there once and assumed she was having a bad day so I took her a free drink and we struck up a conversation.” Louis laughs despite himself as he continues, “she actually thought I was chatting her up at first but when I told her I was gay, you came up.”

Harry isn’t sure how to feel about everything that Louis is telling him, but the way Louis’ gaze changes when he says that last part stops all the negative thoughts poisoning his mind. He looks at Harry like he cherishes him and Harry immediately wants to curl up in his side again. He doesn’t though. He needs to hear more before that can even be a possibility.

“Your mother is… an interesting woman,” Louis chuckles, remembering that day so clearly. “I decided I’d like to get to know this son she talked so much about but Anne was having none of it. She didn’t like me even then,” Louis says with a regretful twist to his lips. 

“That’s why you were so nervous about the party?” Harry guesses. “You knew she wouldn’t like me dating you?”

“She thinks I look like trouble.”

Harry wants to say something sweet to assuage the hurt that paints Louis’ face but he doesn’t because there’s a part of the story that he’s not telling Harry yet. One that Harry really needs to hear. So, instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, giving Louis an unimpressed look. “Well, you did stalk her son apparently.”

“I didn’t--,” Louis cuts himself off before he can get too impassioned, reminding himself that Harry doesn’t know all the details yet. And he’s not as innocent as he’d been about to proclaim. “Okay, I saw one of your business cards sitting on the table, saw the name on it and figured it was yours since it matched the name she’d called her son. So, I swiped one and used busking as an excuse to run into you, yes.”

“So, what?” Harry asks, feeling a little like his chest is being crushed. “You sought me out to spite her?”

Louis wrings his hands hoping he hasn’t ruined everything, hoping there’s some way to salvage this. “I mean, not entirely?”

Harry scoffs, turning his back on Louis and this time Louis does stand up but still keeps his distance. 

“Please, hear me out, Harry,” Louis pleads, carrying on when Harry doesn’t immediately kick him out. “I did take the card to spite her, and I set up outside your shop but I knew that I couldn’t possibly try to date someone based on spite for their mother. That wouldn’t have been fair to either of us.”

“And yet, you did it anyway,” Harry says, voice tight with his back still to Louis, his arms are wrapped around himself and he looks like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“No, I didn’t,” Louis insists. “Harry, love, please look at me.”

Harry shakes his head, lifting his hands to his face. “I’m not sure I can right now,” comes out muffled. 

Louis knows he must be crying and Louis wants to cry too. He’s fucked this up so bad.

“Okay,” he says, accepting that he has to say this to the back of Harry’s head. “That first day, I decided that I wasn’t looking specifically for you, that I would just sing and if I met you, that was up to fate.” Louis wishes he could reach out, he really wants to hold Harry right now, but he won’t blur the line between what he wants and what Harry needs. “And then I saw you, not only were you absolutely gorgeous, but you were also playful and funny and everything that I look for in a partner. I didn’t even know for sure that it was you, though I had an idea when you went into your shop. I knew that I wanted you, but there was no guarantee that you’d want me back,” he gives a sad shrug, “so I took a chance.”

Harry doesn’t turn around but Louis stands his ground, waiting for some reaction. He’ll leave if Harry wants him to but he hopes with every ounce of his being that it won’t come to that.

Slowly, Harry turns around, tears still slipping down his cheeks. “Do you regret it?”

“I regret that I hurt you, love,” Louis says, utterly sincere, putting his hands behind his back to resist the urge to reach out again. It’s even stronger with Harry looking at him like that. “But I’ll never regret meeting you, no matter what the circumstances were.”

Harry takes a step closer, watching Louis’ face as he takes another step. “Even if it means spending more time with my mother in the future?”

Louis snorts, heart fluttering happily when he sees Harry give a small half smile at Louis’ reaction. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“I think so,” Harry answers tentatively. “I’m glad you were honest with me, even if it wasn’t that much fun to hear.”

“Can I hold you now?” Louis holds his arms open, waiting to see if Harry feels like stepping into them. 

“Yes, please.”

Louis’ arms envelop Harry immediately, holding him tight and hoping he gets to keep him for the foreseeable future. They cuddle on the sofa, both clinging to each other until Harry insists that he make them dinner. That’s what he invited Louis for anyway. 

Things are still a little off as they eat dinner but it gets better when Harry goes to wash the dishes and Louis steps up next to him, determined to help. It’s so sweet and thoughtful. That’s one of the things Harry loves most about Louis, how considerate he is of others. He’d recognized it earlier, how Louis had let him have his space while he was mad at him. Harry’s so used to his partners calling him pet names and pushing their affection on him, trying to smother his anger or pain with hugs and kisses. Louis had let him have his emotions, waiting for Harry to be ready for his affection and that spoke volumes about the kind of person Louis is. Harry found he couldn’t be mad about the _way_ Louis had entered his life when it meant that he was there in the first place.

“Music?” Harry asks as Louis fills the sink with soapy water for him. 

“Sure,” he smiles.

“Hey, Google, play music on Spotify,” Harry calls out to his Google Home. 

“Sure,” she answers. “Playing music on Spotify.”

A soft slow song plays and Harry starts to sing along to it reaching for a sponge but Louis captures his hand first.

“May I have this dance?”

“Here in the kitchen?” Harry asks playfully.

“Anywhere can be a dance floor if you’re brave enough,” Louis retorts, waiting for Harry’s consent before pulling him into his arms.

He twirls them gracefully around the kitchen even though Harry is not usually the slightest bit graceful. It’s just a sign of how good his dance partner is, he supposes. 

“I’m really glad you didn’t give up on me,” Louis says softly over the music.

Harry’s stomach twists because he remembers when he almost did give up on Louis after that party. “Me too,” he answers, sliding both his arms around Louis’ neck to hold him tight, it slows their dance to more of a sway but Harry likes it better this way anyway. 

~@~

Harry knew Gemma would come after him for details about Louis and Cara eventually so he should know she’s not just calling about their mother’s upcoming birthday when she rings him up in the middle of the week.

“You’re still dating _both of them_?” The level of incredulity in her tone makes Harry cringe.

“Yes?” It _is_ starting to get to him. He hasn’t had that talk with either one of them about being exclusive but he gets the feeling that neither of them are dating anyone else and it’s beginning to make guilt rise in his chest. 

“Harry,” Gemma sighs with utter disappointment in him. He hates when she sighs at him like that.

“Look, they’re both great for different reasons, okay? It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“Okay, hit me with them.”

“Hit you with what?” If Harry is being deliberately obtuse, that’s no one’s business but his.

“The reasons,” Gemma says, ignoring his absurdity. “Tell me why Cara is so great.”

Harry sits back on his sofa with a sigh, “Okay. Fine. She can make any conversation seem fun and she’s funny and it never feels like she’s judging me for not being as masculine as other guys. It feels like I could ask her to paint my nails for me and she’d just help me pick out a color and do it, no questions asked. I don’t know, it’s just really nice being with someone I don’t feel like I have to impress because I feel like she’ll like me no matter what I’m like.”

“Alright, now tell me what’s so great about Louis.”

“Oh my god, the chemistry with Louis is off the charts,” Harry says immediately, fighting a wicked smile just from thinking about how attracted he is to Louis, though he knows that Gemma can’t possibly see it. “The first thing I want to do when I see him is snog his face off. Every time.”

“Whoa there, please remember that you’re talking to your sister right now and don’t go into any more detail than that.”

“And his arse,” Harry groans but at this point he’s only doing it to embarrass Gemma. “It’s perfection.”

“Excuse me while I vomit,” Gemma jokes, making retching noises into the phone. 

“Okay, stop it. I’m done,” Harry laughs. 

“Are you sure?” Gemma says, making another small noise to warn him in case he keeps going.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay… if you’re sure,” she waits a few seconds just to be certain and then gets the conversation back on topic. “So, is it just a lust thing with Louis?”

Harry snorts. “Not at all. He’s incredible in absolutely all the ways. He’s sweet and thoughtful and honest. And he’s the most amazing big brother to his siblings.” Harry practically swoons just thinking about how wonderful Louis is.

“That’s incredible, H. And I get that he’s great on his own, but are you worried about what it means that he’s taking care of all those kids? I mean, what it means _for you_. The guy comes with a built in family attached.”

“Yeah I know, but you haven’t seen him with them, Gem. He’s amazing. It makes it really easy to imagine what he’ll be like as a dad one day, you know?” 

“Wow, you’re already wondering about having kids with him?”

“You know I’ve always wanted a family, it’s not like it’s a stretch for me to jump to that thought.”

Gemma gets really quiet for a minute and Harry almost starts to feel embarrassed about his admission. She doesn’t pick on him the way he’d suspected she would though.

“Kinda sounds like you might have already made your mind up about who you want to be with, Harry,” she suggests gently. 

Harry swallows, thinking about how hard his mother always pushes women on him, how she just refuses to accept that maybe his heart is leading him in another direction. He does really like Cara, maybe not for the same reasons or the same ways as Louis, but he’s not so certain it’s as simple as just making a choice for himself. Can he truly be happy in a relationship that divides him from his family?

“Maybe,” he tells his sister, but he’s pretty sure they can both hear how defeated he sounds.

~@~

“You’re quiet tonight, sweetheart,” Anne observes, sitting next to Harry on the sofa as Gemma and Michal set up snacks and the easel for a game of Pictionary. “Are you alright?”

Harry looks at his mum, taking her in and, for a moment, Anne worries that he’s still upset about the last time they fought. Harry hadn’t answered her phone calls all week but he’d come to family game night tonight so she knows that he’s not ready to give up on her entirely. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he eventually answers. She can tell that his heart isn’t in it though. 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you at your cousin’s party,” Anne says because she knows it needs to be said. She’d been so worried when she had seen Harry with Louis that she’d thrust the nearest single woman at him to try and separate them. It was a desperate, irrational move and he deserves an apology for her interference even if she’s not entirely certain it was the wrong move. 

“Forget it,” Harry says with a shake of his head, forgiving her far too easily, like he always does. She wonders sometimes if maybe he doesn’t forget though.

Thankfully, before Anne can say anything to ruin their truce, Gemma pronounces them ready to play the game and promptly calls dibs on her husband as her partner.

Harry looks at Anne and grins. It even reaches his eyes this time. “Poor sucker has no idea what he’s in for.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Michal intones dryly. 

“Oh, I know,” Harry snickers, reaching for the rules page they always read aloud before playing in case anyone tries to make up their own rules.

An hour later, Gemma is cursing at her husband because they’re losing and Anne and Harry are trying not to laugh at his pain. And failing.

“Time out!” Michal calls in an effort to save himself, and possibly his marriage. “We need a time out!”

“I’m gonna go get some more wine,” Harry says, reaching for his empty glass and hurrying out of the room.

“I’ll come with you,” Anne announces, following behind him to give the couple a chance to cool down without an audience. 

In the kitchen, Anne watches Harry pour himself another glass of wine, wondering how to broach the topic of Cara. Anne hasn’t really spoken to her since giving her Harry’s business card. It would have felt too much like scheming to keep in touch behind his back so Anne has no idea if Harry is even still seeing her. She opens her mouth to speak but Harry’s already holding out a hand, one finger up to stop her.

“Think very carefully before you say whatever you’re getting ready to say,” he warns, drinking a big gulp of his wine after he speaks.

Apparently Anne isn’t quite as forgiven as she’d thought. 

“I suppose I deserve that,” Anne admits, placing her glass on the counter as a way of asking Harry to pour her some. He does, pouring himself some more while he’s at it. “I just wanted to ask about your life,” she says innocently. “Are you still dating that boy?”

Harry gives her a flat look as he pushes her wine glass back to her. “His name is Louis. Which I know you know because he told me you’d already met before.”

“Did he?” Anne asks, trying to hold her annoyance in check. It will do her no good to get upset with her son over something Louis has done. “And what else did he tell you?”

“He told me that you met at the restaurant where he tends bar and that you judged him without knowing anything about him. Which I personally think is hilarious because you seem so sure that he’s such a terrible person, but so far he’s been more honest with me than my own mother has.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Anne laments. ”It sounds to me like he told you in order to drive us further apart. And that doesn’t seem like a good guy to me.”

Harry sighs, putting down his wine glass to grip the edges of the counter. “Whatever. You’re going to find a way to think badly of him no matter what I say.”

“Despite what you may believe, Harry. I’m not _looking_ for ways to think poorly of the boy,” Anne says softly, setting her glass aside too.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Harry mutters. 

Anne takes a deep breath. In the other room she can hear Gemma and Michal murmuring to each other, probably taking advantage of having the room to themselves. She just wants that for Harry. Why is it so hard for him to see that? “Does that mean that you’ve stopped seeing the young woman you were seeing?”

Harry glances at her before sighing heavily. “No. I’m still seeing Cara too.”

“Oh,” Anne is pleasantly surprised by this news. She edges a little closer to her son. “Do you think I might meet her too?”

Harry scoffs, shaking his head at her but doesn’t speak. They both know he knows what she’s doing. 

“So, you’re willing to give her a chance when you didn’t give Louis one?” Anne doesn’t like the way he’s arching a brow at her but at least he’s looking at her now.

“Okay. You’re right,” Anne concedes, feeling chastised by the way Harry turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits skeptically to hear what she’s going to say. “I may not have given Louis a fair chance. So, I’ll make a deal with you. Bring Cara to my birthday party--” She cuts herself off when Harry rolls his eyes. “Let me finish. Bring her to my birthday party next week and then you can bring Louis to our next family dinner after that. I’ll meet them both and give them both a fair chance.”

Harry stares at her, studying her face before asking with wary optimism, “You promise?”

“Scout’s honour,” Anne says, holding up three fingers in a scout salute. 

Harry gives her a mild scowl. “None of us was ever a Scout.”

“Fine. I _promise_ ,” Anne says pointedly, picking up her wine glass once more. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah. I am,” he answers and, finally, Harry smiles. It’s so sweet and sincere that it nearly makes Anne tear up. It’s been a long time since Harry has smiled at her like that. 

~@~

“You sure you want to go back into the monster den?” Louis asks, reaching to unlock his front door. 

When the babysitter had called in the middle of their date to announce that she had a family emergency, Harry and Louis had rushed to get their food packed up and their bill paid so that they could get back to Louis’ house as quickly as possible. But Harry isn’t ready for the night to be over yet. He hasn’t even gotten to ask Louis to his family dinner in a couple of weeks to reintroduce him to his mother. 

“Of course,” Harry answers with a grin, holding their food they’d had to get in take out containers. “Monsters are my favorite.”

Louis turns to him, totally endeared. “You’re _my_ favorite _._ I’d kiss you before we go in, but I don’t want to keep Emma waiting.”

“It’s alright, it’s the thought that counts.” Harry can tell his grin is reaching smug proportions but he tries to tamp it down as Louis opens the door to let his babysitter get to her emergency.

Emma hugs the little ones and then rushes toward the door only to realise she left her bag in the closet and turn around to come back for it. Once she makes sure she has everything she needs, she hurries out the door, accepting their well wishes for her family as she jumps in her car.

As soon as Emma has left, Louis sits Doris and Ernest on the sofa and puts on a Disney film. Harry’s not even sure Louis knows which one, he does it so swiftly. 

“Be right back to watch with you, okay babes?” he tells the children. “I just have to help Harry put the food away.”

Once he knows they’re ignoring him in favor of the television, Louis tugs Harry gently by the sleeve into the kitchen where he takes the take out containers out of Harry’s hands. He puts them on the counter and then crowds into Harry’s space, bringing their lips together to give Harry the kiss he’d wanted to give him before.

“Mmm,” Harry hums when Louis pulls back for air. “Do we need to worry about the older girls walking in on this?”

“Nah, they’re at a sleepover,” Louis answers, diving back in to kiss Harry again. 

Harry grips Louis tight, fingers digging into his waist as he licks into his mouth, pulling him flush against his body.

“Okay,” Louis says, pulling back with a breathy laugh. “I think we should put this on hold for now. At least while the little ones are still up.”

Harry smirks. “What about once they’re in bed?”

Louis simply grins at him wickedly and backs away, turning to go check on Doris and Ernest.

“Tease,” Harry smiles to himself before following.

They end up heating up their food and sitting with the twins to watch the movie while they eat. After the movie, they play with the kids, taking turns between having a tea party with Doris and racing toy cars with Ernest until it’s bedtime. Then, Harry helps Louis take them upstairs where they brush their teeth and get dressed for bed. The kids insist on a song before they go to sleep and again, Harry and Louis sing Songbird because it’s the twins’ favorite.

After the kids are asleep they go back downstairs and Harry flops down on the sofa, exhausted but content.

“You’re good with them,” Louis observes, a note of pride in his tone as he sits down next to Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry grins, turning to look at Louis with his head still rested on the back of the sofa. “I’ve always wanted an entire brood.”

“Even as young as you are?” Louis asks teasingly, sliding a little closer to him.

“Yeah,” Harry answers, lifting an arm to drape over Louis’ shoulder. He pulls him in close, loving the heat of Louis’ body pressed right up against him. “I know it’s weird to want a family so soon, and I really hope this isn’t scaring you off, but yeah. I want loads of kids. Now or ten years down the road, I don’t really care. I’ve just got a lot of love to give, you know?”

“I can understand that,” Louis hums thoughtfully. “I’m the same. My parents were so great. Well, my mum and my step-dad but he was my dad in all the ways that counted. They made me want to give everything they gave me and teach everything they taught me to a new batch of Tomlinsons one day.” He chuckles at himself. “Made me a proper sap too, apparently.”

“Guess we match then,” Harry says, tugging Louis in by the front of his shirt. “Because I love that.”

Louis smiles at him just before their lips meet. 

“Wait,” Harry pulls back suddenly, remembering why he was so excited about this date in the first place.

“Did I do something wrong?” Louis asks, backing up worriedly.

“No. Not at all,” Harry assures him, leaning in to give him a quick apology kiss for even making him think that. “No, it’s just--. You are cordially invited to our family dinner next week.”

“Cordially?” Louis squints skeptically. “Or reluctantly?”

“Cordially,” Harry confirms. “My mother promises to be on her best behavior and finally give you the fair chance you deserve.”

“ _Really_?”

“Yes, really,” Harry laughs. “Now, will you come?”

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “I will if you make me.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” he laughs again, slapping Louis’ arm. 

Louis grins and leans in close. “I will if you make me,” he repeats in a sultry tone, gaze falling to Harry’s lips. 

Harry pulls him in again, capturing his lips in a heated kiss and effectively shutting him up.

~@~

From the second Harry picks Cara up in a cab, everything about the night of his mother’s birthday party feels wrong. There’s a sick sinking sensation in his stomach and an itch under his skin that he can’t scratch. 

His smile feels strained when he greets Cara, who looks as beautiful as ever, and his palms are clammy. By the time they arrive at the party, he’s beginning to wonder if he’s coming down with something. 

Anne is thrilled to see Cara at Harry’s side and Harry can’t help but resent that Louis didn’t get the same reception. He reminds himself that Louis will get to have that in just one more week.

“Harry,” Anne greets him with a hug and he gives her a kiss on the cheek before guiding Cara to step up beside him with a hand to the small of her back.

“Mum, this is Cara, Cara this is my mother, Anne,” Harry introduces them and he doesn’t miss the quick glance Cara throws his way before greeting his mother with a handshake and a smile. 

That one little glance sends Harry’s thoughts spiraling while Cara tells his mother Happy Birthday and the two of them start chatting. Was she expecting Harry to introduce her as his girlfriend? Does she think that’s what they are? Why does the thought of calling her his girlfriend make Harry’s stomach churn? Is it simply because Harry needs to tell her she’s not the only person he’s dating? Or is it because he can’t imagine Cara being his girlfriend?

“Harry?” His mother’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Harry shakes those thoughts away. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Harry asks his mother, trying to smile but not sure he succeeds.

“I said, Cara and I are going to get some drinks. Would you like something?” Anne answers, looking at Harry with concern.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” Harry answers, grateful to see them walking away. He thinks maybe he needs to get some air.

Anne stumbles upon him in the back garden a little while later, staring off into the distance with his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks. “Oh, _Harry_ ,” she gushes, taking longer strides in her hurry to reach him. “Cara is such a lovely girl. I’m so glad that you brought her tonight.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, looking back through the doorway where he can see Cara and Gemma chatting inside. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Is something wrong, love?” Anne asks, picking up on the dull tone of Harry’s voice.

Harry looks at his mother and then back to the image of Cara and his sister inside. He sighs. “I don’t know.”

“Come on back inside,” Anne urges, putting her hand in the crook of his elbow and pulling him with her. “Have some cake, mingle, _enjoy_ yourself. Dance with that sweet young lady of yours.”

Harry shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his mother but does as she says. After all, it’s her birthday. Tomorrow is another day though, a day when he thinks he might need to make some changes.

~@~

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Louis hears Harry’s voice before he sees him. He smiles, putting away his phone and standing up from the steps in front of Harry’s building, hiding the flowers he brought Harry behind his back as he walks towards that lovely sound. He hasn’t been waiting too long but it’s still long enough that it’s made him impatient to surprise Harry and see the way his eyes light up when he notices Louis and the gift he brought..

“Cara, I really don’t mind paying for a little bit of a longer ride to make sure that you get home safe,” Harry says. He’s sitting in a cab with the door opened, facing away from Louis. He can just barely see the girl on the other side of Harry and the sight of her makes Louis freeze where he is.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” Louis can just barely hear her say before she leans over and kisses Harry. “I’ll text you when I’m home so you know I’m safe.”

“If you’re sure,” Harry says, stepping out of the car reluctantly. “Don’t forget!”

“I won’t.” Her laugh is cut off by the cab door shutting.

Louis doesn’t know what his face looks like when Harry turns around and sees him standing there, but he hopes it’s an accurate picture of how his heart is being squeezed in a vice right now. Every last drop of warmth and contentment he’d felt only a moment ago wrung from it and pooled on the ground between them.

“Who was that?” Louis asks, waiting for his stomach to stop feeling like he’s on a rollercoaster racing down a steep hill. 

“Louis, I can explain,” Harry says, taking a step closer to him but he stops when Louis takes a step back from him. 

“Fine, explain,” Louis says, dropping arms from behind his back. He doesn’t even remember that he’s holding flowers until Harry’s eyes fall on them, his face unbearably sad.

“Were those for me?” He looks heartbroken that maybe Louis wouldn’t want him to have them now and that makes no sense to Louis when Harry’s the one who’s apparently been stringing Louis along this whole time.

Louis doesn’t have it in him to appease Harry when he’s feeling pretty shattered himself. “No, they were for your girlfriend,” he bites, rolling his eyes and answering more softly, “of course they were for you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry tells him pitifully.

“That’s not the explanation you promised me,” Louis’ eyes are burning with unshed tears. He puts his free hand on his hip and considers dropping the flowers but doesn’t have the heart to ruin them like that. “I’m waiting.”

“Do you want to go inside for this conversation?” Harry asks, taking another step closer but Louis thinks it’s more about getting inside than reaching out to him. He steps back again anyway.

“No, I don’t want to go inside if there’s not a reason to stay,” Louis decides. “Just quit stalling and tell me.”

Harry sighs but accepts Louis’ decision with a forlorn nod. “I met Cara the day after I gave you my number. She asked me out and you and I hadn’t even been on our date yet so it was easy to say yes. I was a bit in shock to have two people ask me out in such a short amount of time, you know? It felt really good to feel wanted.”

“So, what? You just kept dating both of us to make yourself feel good?” 

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “At first, I rationalized it by thinking of it as giving you both an equal opportunity. I needed time to decide who was right for me.”

“Harry, we’ve been dating for weeks. How long does it take?” Louis cries. “And in all that time, you never felt the need to tell me about her? Does she know about me?” Louis gasps suddenly, covering his mouth with his empty hand. “That day at the party. Your mother asked you if you were ‘still seeing that girl’. There was so much going on that it didn’t register until now. You told _your mother_ but you didn’t bother telling me?”

“It’s not that easy, Louis,” Harry tries to argue but that response just pisses Louis off.

“It wasn’t exactly easy to risk losing you when I confessed about how we met, Harry, but I did it.”

“I just meant that I kept second guessing myself,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I would make a decision and then something would happen that made me wonder if it was the right one.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better,” Louis scoffs. “And you still haven’t said why you didn’t just tell me.”

Harry stands there looking distressed but doesn’t speak for a long moment and Louis half-considers just walking away. 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew that would put a limit on the amount of time I had to make a decision and I do like Cara but eventually, I realized that choosing her meant making my mother happy but not myself. On the other hand, choosing you would make me so happy, Louis, but it might mean losing my family.” Harry’s eyes plead with Louis to let him come closer, to let this answer be the one that makes Louis decide to forgive him. “You have to understand how terrified I was of making that decision."

Harry’s response doesn’t have the effect Louis knows he was hoping for. It doesn’t make Louis want to run into Harry’s arms and tell him that he gets it. He does recognize Harry’s reasoning, but that understanding only breaks him more. 

“Well,” Louis says with a shaky sigh. “Congratulations. You don’t have to make it anymore.”

“Louis, please,” Harry cries when Louis turns his back on him. 

Twisting back around, Louis tosses Harry his gift, not waiting to see if Harry catches it. “Enjoy the flowers.”

~@~

“Mother, when I don’t answer the phone after five calls, maybe consider that I’m not in the mood to talk,” Harry answers in irritation when his mother calls for the _sixth_ time.

“Harry? What’s wrong? You sound like you’ve been crying,” Anne replies, ignoring Harry’s rudeness if there’s a chance something’s bothering him.

“Gee, what gave it away?” Harry sniffs, but she’s not sure if it’s on purpose. 

“There’s no need to be like that,” Anne says, only willing to ignore the rudeness for so long. She’s not a doormat. 

“What do you want, Mum?” Harry sounds so weary.

“I was just calling to say that Cara left her sweater behind. Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” Harry says, leaving a heavy silence hanging over their call.

“Then why are you so sad, love?”

Harry simply breathes over the phone line and Anne is almost certain he’s not planning to speak again.

“Harry,” she says, worried about him.

“Louis came by tonight and we fought.” Harry makes a terrible pained noise that threatens to rend Anne’s heart in two. “I don’t think he wants to see me anymore.”

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry,” Anne tries to say.

“No, _don’t_ ,” Harry tells her, vehemently refusing her words of comfort. “You didn’t even want me to be with Louis in the first place. Don’t act as though you care now.”

“Sweetheart, I do care,” Anne argues. “And this is exactly the reason I had a problem with him in the first place. I knew he’d break your heart.”

Harry laughs bitterly. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Mum. He saw me kissing Cara goodbye after your birthday party and he was hurt because I hadn’t told him about her yet. He didn’t break my heart, Mother. _I broke his_.”

Anne doesn’t know what to say as she listens to her son cry on the other end of the phone line. Before she can say anything, Harry speaks again, voice cracking softly over the line. 

“I was a coward and I broke both our hearts.”

The phone falls silent and Anne knows that Harry has hung up. She doesn’t blame him. She’s been pushing a relationship at him that he never truly wanted and made him miss out on something that could have been really wonderful. Even she doesn’t want to deal with herself right now.

She waits a couple of days before trying to call him again. Harry doesn’t answer, not even in anger, but she keeps trying. He is her son after all. He is worth trying for.

~@~

Harry sort of feels hollow inside but he continues seeing Cara. Louis won’t even answer his calls now so there’s no reason Harry shouldn’t see her though it sort of feels like he’s cheating them both by continuing to. However, the fact is, she’s still lovely and doesn’t deserve to be left behind for Harry’s mistakes. She’s also one of the only people who can make him smile these days. 

Her parents come to visit and end up staying at her flat. They meet Harry one night when he sees Cara home after their date and insist on them all having dinner together sometime. Harry offers to cook for them and they seem to like him all the better for it. 

It’s the night of their dinner and he’s just put the chicken in the oven, his thoughts wandering when Louis’ words from the night he left Harry come floating back to haunt him. He really should have told Louis and Cara about each other right after his first date with each of them. Maybe sooner. He could have told them over the phone before there was any risk of hearts getting involved. And he knows that Louis isn’t in the picture anymore but he’s definitely feeling like he should come clean to Cara about everything now. He’s about to go out to the balcony, where Cara goes when she needs a break from her parents, when he tunes back in to his surroundings and hears Cara’s mother on the phone. 

“Oh yes, Cara is dating such a sweet boy right now. I’ll never get over the fact that they seem to have met on the internet,” she laughs. “Oh, well. At least she’s not trying to date girls anymore.”

Harry has to bite his tongue not to go off on Cara’s mother but then his brain registers the other part of what she had said.

“Are you seeing someone else?” Harry asks, walking out onto the balcony where Cara’s been playing her guitar. It’s far enough away so as not to disturb her parents but allows her to play at regular volume.

“What?” She asks, setting the guitar aside for the moment.

“I just heard your mum talking about some guy you met on the internet. And if that’s the case, then I feel like I need to tell you that I’ve been seeing someone else too.”

“Um, I’m not seeing anyone else,” Cara informs him sharply. “The guy my mother is talking about is you. But I would like to know more about this other person _you’re_ seeing.”

“How is your mother talking about me? We didn’t meet on the internet,” Harry asks, too confused to confront the question about Louis yet.

“Right.” Cara flinches, biting her lip before taking a deep breath and facing up to her actions. “Look, I knew it would come out sooner or later, I just hoped that it would be later, when we could laugh about it.”

“Laugh about what, Cara?” Harry asks with a shake of his head. He has no idea what she’s talking about.

“You might want to sit down for this,” she warns him.

He looks around the balcony. All that’s out here is her guitar and cold concrete. “I think I’ll stand.”

Cara gives him a defeated nod of acceptance. “Before we met, I found this ad on this personals website. It was a mother looking for someone nice to set her son up with, only she said you were too stubborn to be set up in the traditional way so she gave me your card. Then, I hired you to cater an event at my workplace and set it up so that we would meet in a more organic way.”

“My mother put out an ad,” Harry repeats, his voice flat and his eyes dull before he blinks and leaves them closed as he grits out, “Of course. And that means that you knew her before I introduced you to her. That’s probably when she met Louis, too. Oh my god, I’m gonna kill her.”

“She didn’t mean any harm, Harry,” Cara tries, putting a hand on Harry’s arm but he very adamantly doesn’t want it there so he pulls away. Cara looks hurt by the rejection but she doesn’t try again, instead taking a step back and leaning on the railing. “She just wants to see you happy.”

“With a girl,” Harry corrects, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans on his own side of the balcony. “She wants to see me happy _with a girl_. She can’t bear the thought of me ending up with a man so she’s been pushing me towards you.”

“Come on,” Cara cajoles, moving a little closer so that she’s leaning on the railing next to him and knocking her shoulder against Harry’s. “It’s not like we don’t have fun together, right?”

“Yeah, of course we do,” Harry agrees, looking at her apologetically. This isn’t entirely her fault and it’s not like he hasn’t kept some secrets too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that I didn’t actually like you. I do. It’s just, ever since my mum found out about Louis--”

“Louis. Is that the other person you’ve been seeing?” Cara asks, reminding him that they have another conversation they need to have. She doesn’t push it yet, just curious at the moment as she listens.

“Yeah. Ever since she found out about him, she’s been pushing hard for me to drop him and be with you.”

“I mean, I vote for that too,” Cara says with a playful smile.

Harry sighs, looking over at her. She truly is lovely, and he enjoys her company but he’s not sure if they could ever really be more than good friends. There’s simply no spark between them. And his heart sort of already belongs to someone else anyway. “I heard something else your mother said on the phone.”

“Oh boy,” Cara says, rolling her eyes but Harry feels like it’s probably not at him. “What did she say now?”

“She said that her daughter dating a boy from the internet was better than her dating a girl.”

It’s Cara’s turn to sigh. “Yep. Sounds like my mum.”

Harry watches her, understanding flooding his very bones. It’s hard when your family doesn’t accept who you are. Sometimes you search for the easiest fix. “Be honest right now,” Harry tells her, reaching over for her hand and holding it tightly. “Do you want to be with me because you care for me and think we can have a future together? Or do you want to be with me because it’s easier?”

Cara meets his stare for a mere moment before she looks away, giving him all the answer he needs.

“Yeah, me too,” he whispers, knowing she understands when she gives his fingers a light squeeze.

“So… I guess it’s over between us?” she asks timidly.

Harry nods slowly. “I think we both need to get past the things in our lives that are holding us back from what we really want.”

“I think you’re probably right.”

They stand there, side by side, with the city gleaming down below them until Harry backs up a step letting Cara’s hand fall from his own. “I should probably go.”

“Wait, Harry?” Cara calls before he can even turn away. “Your mother’s ad, it was for both men _and_ women. She may not be entirely comfortable yet with the idea of you being with a man, but she does seem to be _trying_.”

Harry takes that in, remembering how his mother had promised to give Louis a fair chance before Harry had lost his chance entirely. And how she’d kept calling after Harry had told her that Louis wanted nothing to do with him anymore, trying to give him the comfort he desperately needed. 

“Thanks,” he tells Cara with a smile. He should probably go visit his mother.

~@~

“Harry,” Anne says in surprise when she finds her son on her doorstep. Last she had checked, he still wasn’t speaking to her.

“I think we should talk,” Harry tells her before she can ask why he’s there.

“Of course, come in.” Anne opens the door wider to let him in, leading him to the kitchen where she automatically starts making coffee. Their heart to hearts tend to happen over coffee when they start amicably, which hasn’t been the case recently so she is grateful for the opportunity to do this again.

Harry sits at the breakfast bar and watches her movements for a little while, the routine slightly hypnotising. “I broke up with Cara,” he eventually says.

Anne, to her credit, only pauses for half a second before she’s moving again. “Okay,” she says, glancing at Harry. “Are you upset about it?”

Harry nearly smiles when his mother doesn’t automatically reply ‘I’m sorry to hear that’. She seems to be making a conscious effort to put Harry’s feelings first. “Not really. It was a mutual decision. I think we’ll stay friends though.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice.”

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asks while the coffee brews, bubbling quietly in the pot. 

“You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“Will you show me the ad you put out when you started your search for my perfect partner?”

“Oh my,” Anne frets. “Cara told you?”

“She did,” Harry nods. He’s taking all of this much more calmly than Anne would have expected. He even gives her a little smile. “She also told me that the ad was open to women _and_ men.”

“Yes, well.” Anne plays with the mug she’s set on the counter for herself. “You said that you liked both, so.”

“So you listened,” Harry’s eyes are shiny when Anne looks at him again.

“I _tried_. There wasn’t a single man who even made it to the ‘maybe’ pile, so I doubt I succeeded but it was my intention to try.”

Harry sniffs, scrunching his nose to try and keep himself from actually crying. “That still means a lot, mum. You don’t even know how much.”

The coffee is done but neither of them moves to fill their mugs, instead Harry moves around the breakfast bar to hug his mother tightly. “Thank you for trying.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at showing it,” Anne tells him, holding him close.

“Shhhh,” Harry shushes her. “You’re fine. I’m sorry I fought you at every turn.”

“No,” Anne disagrees, pulling back from her son and pushing him back down into a chair. “Harry, listen. Your only fault was not being a mind reader,” Anne cradles his cheek in her hand. He is her baby boy and she doesn't even want to think about how close she came to losing him. “I went about this so poorly.”

“It’s okay, Mum,” Harry says, smiling at her with sympathy, sadness in his eyes. “If there’s anything I understand, it’s making a mess of things when you only ever had the best of intentions.”

“Maybe, but I think there are some things-- personal things-- that I need to tell you so that you understand everything.” She turns away from Harry to grab their mugs and pour them both some coffee, sitting and watching Harry fix his with milk and sugar until they’re both settled.

“Okay, what did you want to tell me?” Harry asks, watching her with innocent, wide eyes. It reminds her so much of when he was a child and her heart clenches for both of them.

“How much do you remember about your father?”

Harry looks down into his coffee mug. “Not much. Just that he left when I was little.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly, nodding her head. “He was a really handsome man. Wind-tossed hair, wicked grin, an abundance of tattoos…”

“So, Louis, 30 years ago,” Harry surmises, maybe understanding a little bit better why his mother judged Louis so harshly on first sight.

“Louis, 30 years ago,” Anne agrees. “Believe me, Harry, I _get_ the appeal, but what really worried me, was Louis being a modern day Des.”

“He’s not though, Mum. Louis is amazing and sweet and so beautiful on the inside too. You never gave him a chance to show you all the ways how,” Harry tells her. “You never saw that, after his parents passed away, Louis took in all six of his siblings. He was only 21 but he’s been doing everything he can to hold his family together. He works two jobs and busks on the side when he can, and he still makes sure that he’s home for those kids at least four nights a week. I think that makes him the antithesis of dad.”

Anne sighs, taking in what Harry just told her. “No, I didn’t know that. And you may be right, maybe he is the opposite of the kind of man your father was. I should have given him a chance.”

“You should have,” Harry agrees. “Now, what about the rest of it.”

“The rest?” Anne asks, brow scrunched in confusion. 

“You had a problem with me dating men long before Louis came into the picture,” he comments, sipping his coffee.

Anne laughs ruefully, “You’re too smart.”

“No such thing,” Harry disagrees with a smirk.

Anne wraps her hands around her mug, letting the hot liquid seep through the ceramic to warm her hands. It doesn’t stop the shiver that goes down her back when she thinks about her own past with men. “Men are… indelicate, Harry,” she eventually tells him.

When she looks at him, she sees him looking back with an arched brow, a mixture of curiosity and concern in his eyes. 

“Not all men,” she amends. “Some men are kind, loving gentlemen who deserve to have that same kind of love returned. But the vast majority that I’ve met, they don’t care how many hearts lay shattered on the ground as they walk out the door. Men can be brutal, Harry.”

Harry reaches over and steals one of her hands to hold gently in a gesture of comfort, his face colored with anger on her behalf. She pats the back of his hand gratefully. “I’ve always pushed women on you because women seemed safer to me, love. And I never wanted you to go through what I’ve been through.”

“ _Mum_ ,” Harry whines, pulling her in for another hug, careful to avoid spilling their coffees. After a moment, he sniffs, pulling away. “Does that mean you tried to make Gemma a lesbian?”

Anne throws her head back as she laughs, full bodied and free of the heavy emotions of a moment ago. “Gemma was never quite so quick to give her heart away so I didn’t worry about her as much. Also, when she met Michal, he was not smooth at all, so I was even less worried,” she laughs again, Harry joining her because that he _does_ remember.

Once they’ve sobered, she turns to Harry. “If Louis is really as wonderful as you say, I think you should go after him, love.”

“I think that ship has sailed,” Harry shakes his head sadly. “He was so heartbroken when we last spoke.” 

“You know the biggest lesson I learned from all of this?” Anne prods at Harry’s cheek until he glares at her in mild annoyance. “Communication is key. That, and the people we love are worth trying for. Even if it means that we have to try over and over again until we get it right.”

Harry stares at Anne, scrunching his mouth in a weird way that he does when he knows that scrunching his nose won’t keep him from smiling. 

Anne laughs, getting up to refill her coffee. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry mutters back playfully, finishing what’s in his mug. Maybe it’ll give him a little bit of added courage for what he’s going to do next.

~@~

Harry knows that Louis’ work schedule is crazy so there’s no guarantee Louis will be home when he gets there. That doesn’t stop him from turning up on his doorstep though.

He knocks on the door, flowers in one hand, a gift for the kids tucked away in his pocket.

It swings open and, completely ignoring the babysitter’s shout of “No, Ernest!”, Ernie cries out at the sight of Harry standing there and throws himself into Harry’s arms. Harry barely manages to keep hold of the flowers.

“Ernie,” Harry scolds just as the babysitter, Emma, makes it to the door. “You know you’re not supposed to open the door.”

“I know,” Ernest ducks his head.

“Then why did you?”

“I miss Louis,” the child admits, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You wanted it to be Louis?”

“I always want it to be Louis.”

Harry smiles at the little boy feeling a deep sense of empathy. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I wanna hold Harry.” Doris announces from Emma’s arms.

“I’m so sorry he jumped on you,” Emma says, trying to wrangle Ernie from Harry’s arms and somehow keep Doris from climbing into them in his place.

“I brought the kids a gift,” Harry says loudly, to get their attention.

It works and they both stop wiggling to look at him. 

“But,” he adds, “they can only have it if they behave and go back inside.”

They quickly stop fighting and allow Emma to put them down inside the house.

“Here,” Harry holds out the wrapped gift for them and they snatch it from his hands and hurry to unwrap it. 

“Can I leave these too?” He asks Emma, holding out the flowers and then proceeding to stammer uselessly. “There’s actually three small bouquets. They’re for Louis and the girls. There’s a card in Louis’.”

“Uh, sure,” Emma says, taking the bouquets from his hands.

“What is it?” Ernie asks, holding up the case with a silver disk inside that he and Doris have unwrapped.

“It’s, uh. It’s Songbird,” Harry tells them, bending down so that they don’t have to look up to see him. “Is that still your favorite bedtime song?”

“Yeah, Louis sings it when he’s home. Emma tries when he’s not.”

Emma snorts. “It’s not pretty,” she tells Harry.

“Well, maybe you can listen to that if you want sometimes,” Harry tells them with a smile, standing up again. “I should probably… go.”

“Bye Harry!” Both kids yell as Emma gives him a little wave and closes the door.

Maybe all his gifts will end up in the bin, but Harry will be back with more tomorrow. And maybe the next day if Louis doesn’t ask him to stop. He really hopes Louis doesn’t ask him to stop

~@~

Uncertainty has never been Harry’s friend. He hadn’t been sleeping well before when he had known that Louis wanted nothing to do with him. But, now, having a small bit of hope and not knowing if he actually has a chance of Louis wanting him back keeps him tossing and turning all night. 

Despite taking a long shower this morning and choosing one of his nicest outfits, Harry is sure he looks like death warmed over when he leaves to go to work in the morning. But if he does, Louis makes a nice complement when Harry opens the door and finds the other man pacing the hallway, muttering to himself with wild hair and red eyes.

“Louis? What are you doing here?” Harry asks, frozen in place as he drinks the other man in. Even as exhausted and sad as he appears, he looks absolutely beautiful taking up space in a place Harry never thought he’d be again.

“You!” Louis turns on him with a glare, stalking over to stand in front of him. His eyes trail over Harry’s face, no doubt taking in how haggard Harry looks himself. His lips form a scowl and his eyes narrow even more, if possible.

Oh shit. Harry’s gifts obviously weren’t as welcome as he hoped they’d be.

“What the hell is this?” Louis asks, holding up the cd that Harry made for Doris and Ernest. “Did you seriously record yourself _singing the harmonies_ on Songbird?”

“I--”

“And you left flowers for my sisters?”

“Well, yeah. I--”

“And what the hell is this?” Louis asks, slamming the card from his own bouquet against Harry’s chest. 

“Um,” Harry says, holding the card to his chest simply so it doesn’t fall to the floor. “Do I-- do I get to speak now?”

Louis stares at Harry, his nostrils flaring and his eyes filling with tears before he decides that, “No. You do not get to speak. I just need to be kissing you right now.”

Harry barely has a chance to breathe a sigh of thanksgiving before Louis is kissing him, lips chapped and dry against his own but Harry wouldn’t change this moment for the world.

The card flutters to the ground as Harry pulls Louis back into his flat. Four words staring up from the small piece of cardstock.

> ‘It was always you.’

Epilogue

“Stop fidgeting,” Anne says, straightening Harry’s bowtie for the seventh time in as many minutes. You’d think there were ants in his pants or something.

“Sorry, I’m nervous,” Harry replies, looking at his reflection in the floor length mirror over his mother’s shoulder. He looks damn good in a tux if he does say so himself. 

“Why are you nervous? It’s not like you're the groom,” Anne mutters, dusting off his shoulders next. Seriously, she hadn’t had this much trouble with Gemma at her own wedding and here Harry is acting like the blushing groom when he’s no such thing. Not yet anyway.

“I’ve never been the best man before. Even my own sister didn’t make me the best man at her wedding,” Harry turns to ask his mother, “What kind of sister doesn’t make her own brother her best man?”

“Yours, dear,” Anne says, not willing to play ‘who’s the better sibling today’.

“Anyway, the point is, if she’d made me her best man, I would have had practice,” Harry continues to rant as he turns around to fix his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. “As it is, I’m going in blind. What if I lose the rings? What if I screw up my toast?”

“You’ll be fiiiine.” Anne rolls her eyes.

“What if I trip while I’m carrying Cara’s train and rip her wedding dress?” Harry laments.

“Then she’ll get married with her arse hanging out,” Louis finally pipes up from where he’s been watching Harry fret with utter amusement. His own tux is probably getting wrinkled from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“Language, Louis!” Anne scolds but Harry can see how the corner of her lip is tilted in an almost-smile. “And stand up or your tux will look awful.”

“You know she will,” he says instead of apologizing as he stands up and straightens the lines of his jacket.

“She definitely will,” Harry laughs, feeling a little bit calmer. “She loves Ashley too much to put it off any longer. Her mum is lucky she didn’t elope by this point.”

“Don’t you two dare think of doing that to me,” Anne tells them both sternly, pointing a finger in each of their faces in turn. “I will be at my son’s wedding or the elopement will swiftly be followed by a funeral.”

Harry smirks at Louis over his mother’s shoulder. “I’d say ‘no promises’, but we did promise Doris and Ernie they could be ring bearer and flower girl.” 

“Ring _Bear_ and flower _Bear,”_ Louis corrects. “That’s what they heard when we asked them and now they’re insisting on costumes.”

“Oh my god, that will be so adorable,” Anne gushes, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

“Okay, we should probably get moving to the wedding that’s actually taking place right now. Today is Cara’s day, not ours,” Louis says, urging his fiance and future mother-in-law to get a move on.

“But--” Anne begins to protest but Louis cuts her off. Over the past year of ups and downs, he’s really become a pro at handling Harry’s mother.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now, my love,” he offers an arm to Harry and smiles when Harry takes it, “Let’s go get your ex married!”

“But--”

Once again, Louis will allow no further discussion, waving Anne on ahead of them. She sighs through her nose, giving Louis a displeased expression before walking out of the room ahead of them. 

“Hey,” Harry says, nudging Louis’ hip with a wicked grin. “Do you think we can make them rainbow bears?”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please let me know. If you didn't, please don't. Thank you for reading!! Here's a [fic post](https://fallinglikethis.tumblr.com/post/616118384808132608/what-side-of-love-are-you-on-ever-since-harry), if you'd like to share it.


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